


May

by MilkTeaMiku



Series: A Year of Writing [5]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha Thorin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, Omega Bilbo, Omega Verse, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 36,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins comes to the realisation that the world is a very different place than he first expected - any world he's in, at any time, and mostly due to the fact that Thorin Oakenshield exists in all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathing Vitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warmth meant life, and Thorin was breathing vitality.

The air that moved across the frozen planes of Ravenhill gripped his skin like cold fingers, chilling him to the bone.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. The Shire was never a place so ravaged by the pure lifelessness of frozen waterfalls and outcrops of grey rock.

His head throbbed. Bilbo could feel where it had impacted the ground, and there were certainly bruises blossoming. Faintly, he reached back a hand to brush his fingertips over the lump forming, and cringed to feel his grimy hair matted with blood. 

It was extremely unpleasant. 

_Where's Thorin?_

His limbs hardly seemed to want to move as he stood. He swayed for a moment, and was uncertain if he would remain standing. There were bodies of Orcs several feet from him that made his heart race painfully. 

He listened for the sounds of war - for clashing blades and the shouts of mighty Dwarves and the commanding, oddly quite shouts from the Elves. He expected to hear them, expected to hear _something._

But all was silent.

Unnervingly so. 

Bilbo turned his head to look around. He had to hold onto the rocks to keep himself upright. There seemed to be no signs of life, and for a frightening moment he thought that maybe everyone he cared for had been killed. 

All at once, he realised that he could have been killed.

And no one would have found him, not quickly, maybe not for days. No one would have come looking in this direction, it was too far from the battleground. 

He would have died completely, utterly, irrevocably alone.

He swayed on his feet again. His life - his placid, secure, little life could have ended without anything coming from it.

And that was true - what had he done with his life? Doilies and silver spoons and prized tomatoes didn't seem like much in the way of accomplishments anymore. He hadn't managed to burgle the mountain, either. He'd woken Smaug, brought fire onto the people of Laketown, and he hadn't been able to help Thorin - he'd lied and given over the Arkenstone, the most treasured item for all Dwarves, over to _Elves._

Death was unforgivable, and so was he.

It was a struggle to breathe, but somehow his lungs expanded and contracted in a fairly rhythmic pattern as he started making his way down the rocky slope.

He tried not to let his eyes linger on the pools of drying blood and the lifeless bodies of enemies and the heavy stench of cold and metal and bitterness.

He didn't realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.

And it hurt. Not just because the salt made his wounds burn, or because his eyes felt raw and red. No, it hurt because he was crying - crying because maybe his friends were dead before he got to tell them how he truly felt, because Thorin might be dead, or his heirs might be dead, or maybe Bilbo himself was dead, and this was the twisted world his soul had ended up in.

It was too quiet. So deafening it was loud. The silence made the ringing in his head sound muffled and faded, as if everything that had happened was a dream trapped under the frozen surface of the waterfall.

He forced himself to stop and breathe for a moment. He would be no use to anyone if he worked himself into a panic and collapsed where he stood. 

After his knees stopped shaking, or he stop feeling it, he continued down onto the flat surface of the waterfall. It was cold, cold enough to chill his thick-skinned feet. It made him cringe.

The top of the hill was just as barren and lifeless as where he had woken up. His eyes scanned the frozen surface, and he was startled to see the ice broken and the White Orc's body half-submerged. It certainly wasn't alive anymore.

"Bilbo. Bilbo!"

At first, he didn't hear it, or he didn't register it. The shout didn't sound like it was calling his name, but with a physical start, he realised it was. 

He turned to see who it was, and felt his expression crack and twist when he saw Thorin.

The Dwarf was holding his side, where the fabric of his coat was darker than usual, and his face and any visible skin was smeared with dirt and flecks of blood. He carried an air of power dampened by exhaustion and an intense desire for something he'd never been able to attain.

But it was _Thorin._

Somehow, he found himself running towards the Dwarf. He threw his arms around Thorin's waist, colliding with the Dwarf hard enough to make them both stumble. 

He couldn't really hear it, but he was sure he was sobbing into Thorin's dirtied armour.

Thorin gripped him tightly, scrounging up enough strength to hold both of them up. His arm was a heavy weight around Bilbo's waist, and his hand cradled the back of Bilbo's head tight enough to make his wound throb a little.

"Hush, Bilbo." Thorin soothed, stroking his waist firmly. "You're alright."

Bilbo's breath hiccupped as he held on tighter. Even though it was cold, and Thorin's armour was cold, and he was cold, he could feel the warmth pulsing off Thorin's skin, and fogging out of his mouth.

Warmth meant life, and Thorin was breathing vitality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a little break from all the requests I have stockpiled~ I tried out a new writing program today, and it's so soothing~! I wanted to write something to match the cold mood~
> 
> Welcome to another month~ (❁´◡`❁)*✲ﾟ*


	2. A Place To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the issue of Bilbo's heat approaching, Thorin discovers that the Hobbit is, in fact, an Omega.

Most Hobbits were gentle creatures, with few Alphas and many Betas and Omegas. Their half-breeds were of gentle creatures, too. The Gamgee's were mostly squirrels with beautiful tails, and the Took's were mostly rabbits with lovely lop ears. The Baggins's were mostly deers - Bilbo could still remember his father's stunning antlers - and the Brandybuck's were mostly sheep or lambs, with curled horns for the males and dainty ears for both. 

Bilbo took after his mother - he had her lop ears with the softest fur in the Shire, though they were coloured a rather distinct shade of honey and sunlight that was most definitely from his father. His tail was much the same; a ball of fluff attached to the base of his spine.

His father was a Beta - a gentle-natured man with soft eyes and a love for his mother so deep that no one protested their marriage. His mother, strangely, was an Omega - her love for adventure and her willingness to speak her mind no matter the situation made her very much like an Alpha. Alas, her overly mothering nature and her aptitude for heats made her an Omega, but no less adventurous!

Again, Bilbo took after his mother, as an Omega. It wasn't uncommon for male Hobbits to be Omega's, nor was it uncommon to see a male Omega carrying litters of Fauntlings much larger than a female would.

Bilbo had never really had any interest in the other Hobbits of the Shire, not even the Alpha's. He hadn't dated since he was in his teens, and he didn't share his half-yearly heats with anyone other than himself.

But that was how he liked it. He thought that if there was no one he would like to settle down and start a family with, then there was no point in spending his heats with anyone.

That is, until thirteen Dwarves tumbled into his home and ate out his entire pantry.

Unlike his mother, he'd never really had a flare for adventure. When he was little he used to explore the woods all the time, searching for Elves and chasing fireflies, but as he grew those urges faded. 

Nevertheless, he'd gone on that ridiculous journey and almost died several times and had developed a rather irrational fear of thunderstorms, but he'd done it.

And afterwards, he didn't much feel like returning to the Shire, not forever. 

But he was unsure if an Omega Hobbit really belonged in a grand place like Erebor, and it wasn't only because Erebor was buried within the heart of the Lonely Mountain and not under a rolling, green hill.

Almost all the Dwarves were Alpha's - it was the first thing Bilbo noticed. It appeared that the Durin like were all wolves; Kili, Fili and Thorin all had pointed ears and low, swinging tails and sometimes, when Kili or Fili got too excited, Bilbo could see little fangs poking at their lips. They had intimidated him for quite a while.

Dwalin and Balin were bears, Bilbo thought, but it was hard to tell. He thought Bofur and Bifur might have been as well, but he couldn't quite make out what Bombur was, though he assumed he was a bear as well. All were Alpha's, aside from Balin, who appeared to be a Beta.

The Ri brothers were harder to decipher, though Bilbo thought they were of the feline breed. Dori was certainly a Beta, and he was unsure wether Nori was a Beta or an Alpha. Sometimes he thought Ori may have been an Omega, and if he wasn't, he was certainly a Beta. They were the hardest to figure out. Bilbo was certain Gloin was an Alpha, and he thought Oin was one as well.

He got along best with the Balin, Dori and Ori. Bilbo was timid and a bit finicky by nature, so their calmer personalities were easier to connect with. Generally, he thought he got a long with all of them.

Thorin was a bit questionable, though.

Bilbo thought they were friends, now, after Carrock and Dale and the mithril shirt certainly said _something,_ Bilbo just wasn't sure what. Thorin was the hardest to understand, because when he was not angry he still looked angry, and when he was angry he still looked angry. Sometimes it still frightened Bilbo. 

And Thorin was definitely an Alpha.

 

It had been at least a month since the Battle of the Five Armies, and things were finally settling down. Bilbo was afraid that the Dwarves would suddenly realise he was still there and send him off with nothing but a chest of cold gold and a cheery goodbye.

He spent a lot of time in his designated room. Most of the sleeping quarters had been cleaned out and refurbished, and the Dwarves were in the process of assigning them. Bilbo was quite happy to stay in his tiny box, thank you very much, if it meant he could stay in Erebor.

Of course, even if he avoided all Dwarven citizens that didn't mean he could avoid his approaching heat.

Eventually, he realised he'd have to venture out and see if Oin had any suppressants. He'd used the last of his own stock on the journey, and he desperately needed them to prevent his quickly approaching heat. 

Oin was in the infirmary, where Bilbo expected him to be. Thankfully, he was also alone.

"How can I help you, laddie?" Oin asked, peering at him critically. "You haven't been injured, have you? No aches or bumps?"

Bilbo shook his head, flushing a little. His tail was twitching in embarrassment. "Ah, no. Actually, I wanted to ask- to see if- to ask if you had any- Omega suppressants on hand."

Oin frowned at him. "And you'd be needing them, because...?"

"Ah..." Bilbo reached up to play with one of his lop ears distractedly. "My- my heat is in a few days." He says quietly.

The Dwarf looks at him, puzzled. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you a Beta, Mr Baggins?"

Bilbo flushes, and shakes his head. "No." He admits quietly.

"You mean to say, that we Dwarves unknowingly invited an Omega on a dangerous journey?"

"Omega's are tougher than you may think, you know, we don't need coddling-"

"Of course not!" Oin says, shocked at the mere thought. "But what if you'd been injured? Does Thorin know?"

"No, but aren't you making this more of a deal than it is-?"

"I must inform Thorin at once! Stay here, laddie."

"You really don't have to-"

Bilbo's heart thumped as he found himself alone in the room. He contemplates escaping back to his room, but decides that that would probably not be a good more on his half. Instead, he takes a seat on the bed, and swings his feet absently.

Bilbo wondered if Omega's were as common among Dwarves as they were among Hobbits. He hadn't once seen a Dwarven infant, and from the company he thought that only maybe Ori may have been an Omega. 

Bilbo sighed, twiddling his fingers.

He certainly didn't expect Dwarves to come bursting through the door. He hadn't jumped so hard in quite a while, and his ears had gone straight up in fright. They lowered back to their normal position beside his face when he realised that the Dwarves were Dwarves he knew.

"Are you an Omega, Bilbo?" Thorin demands, stalking across the room with his ears high to place his hands on Bilbo's shoulders.

Bilbo flushes, trembling a little. "Ah, well- yes." He coughs. "Yes, I am. Is that... is that a bad thing?"

Thorin gives him a horrified look. "I would have taken better precautions if I knew you were an Omega!"

"Omega's really don't need coddling-"

"Of course they don't!" Thorin interrupts. "Do you not understand how rare Omega's are? They are a gift from Mahal himself."

"Well, among Hobbits, Omega's are common." Bilbo says, blinking. "Yavanna makes many Omega's. Why, sometimes Hobbit's have entire litters of Omega's!"

Oin looked ready to faint, and Thorin had gone somewhat pale.

"I think Hobbits and Dwarves differ greatly." Thorin finally says, dropping his hands to pull a chair across in front of Bilbo. He sat, and looked at Bilbo expectantly. "Explain."

Bilbo flushes, looking at him indignantly. Thorin hardly seemed aware of his forwardness. "Well, Beta's are the most common." He explains tentatively. "Then Omega's, then Alpha's. Female Omega's can carry litters up to about three, but some have been known to carry up to five-"

"Five children?" Thorin asks, shocked. "At once?"

"Well, yes. Singleton births are common for the first birth, though-"

"You mean there are commonly more than one?"

"With ease." Bilbo answers, tilting his head, puzzled. "Most Hobbits have many children - why, my father was one of eight."

"You said female Omega's." Oin points out. "Does that mean...?"

Bilbo nods, flustered. "Male Omega's can carry, as well, though it's harder to- to, well, become pregnant. It has to happen on a heat, and usually there are only one or two babies, but males commonly have five or six at once. The time between pregnancies is longer, to accommodate."

Thorin leans back, letting the information sink in.

The silence is slightly uncomfortable. "Is it... not like this for Dwarves?"

Thorin shakes his head. "No, Omega's are increasingly rare, and childbirth is difficult. Most families never have more than three children - my mother was lucky, but my sister nearly died during Kili's birthing."

Bilbo nods, feeling a little more at ease. He turns his gaze back to Oin. "About the suppressants?"

"I'm not sure if we have any on hand." Oin says, frowning. "Not many Omega's around, you know. I can probably make some, but it'll take a few days."

Bilbo winced. 

"Is your heat approaching?" Thorin asks. He had the decency to look a little flustered. 

Bilbo nods, rubbing his thighs together anxiously. "I'm afraid the suppressants won't work if they're not taken by tomorrow morning, at the latest. Our heats are sort of... very fertile." He'd never been more embarrassed, but at least Thorin looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"What are we to do, then?" Oin sighs. 

Bilbo shrugs. "I usually just went through it, back in Bag-End. Most single Omega's do, it feels more natural than the suppressants. I took them for my last one, but with this many Alpha's around..." He shrugs, licking his lips. "It's a little unnerving."

"No one has made a pass at you, have they?" Thorin asks, somewhat sourly, as he watches Bilbo out of the corner of his eye.

Bilbo shakes his head, trying to look anywhere but Thorin.

"Good." Thorin mutters, even as Oin gives him a look.

"I'm not sure what we can do, laddie." Oin says.

Bilbo hunches into his shoulders, ears drooping. He didn't know either. 

Thorin reaches over to place a hand on his knee. "Don't worry, Bilbo. We'll sort it out."

Bilbo glances up and offers the Dwarf a small, forced smile.

Thorin clears his throat. "For now, I'll take you back to your rooms. Oin, begin making the suppressant, anyway."

Oin nods, and bids them goodbye as Thorin places a hand on the small of Bilbo's back and leads him from the room.

"How long until your heat begins?" Thorin asks as the walk down the quiet hallway. "If you don't mind me asking..."

"A few days, at best." Bilbo answers quietly. "They come in very quickly, for Hobbits. I think my scent will start changing soon."

Thorin experimentally leaned down, pressing his nose into Bilbo's curls to take a quick sniff. A deep rumble of approval echoed from his throat and made Bilbo's stomach twist pleasurably.

"Sorry." Thorin pulls back jerkily, looking flustered. 

"It's okay." Bilbo looks up at him, equally red in the cheeks, and fervently hopes he isn't coming off as a desperate Omega. 

Thorin's sharp eyes search his face, before he offers a small smile. "Do you plan to remain in Erebor?"

Bilbo startles at the question. "If- if I'm allowed, yes."

"Of course you're permitted, Bilbo." Thorin presses him a little closer, almost without realising. "I would have insisted otherwise. You were a vital part to our journey."

Bilbo's heart flutters at the praise a little. No Alpha had ever praised him before, and it felt... really good.

"We'll figure your heat out, okay?" Thorin says as they come to a stop at the door to Bilbo's room. "And if you plan to stay, then you'll be moved into a better room. I insist."

Bilbo nods, gripping the hem of his shirt tightly. "Thank you for helping me." He says quietly.

Thorin reaches forwards and envelopes him in his arms, just like he did at Carrock. Bilbo is overwhelmed by his strong, domineering scent, and the warmth of his arms is heavy and comforting. Like before, it takes him a moment to respond, but this time Thorin waits, and it's very pleasing.

He hadn't had contact with an Alpha like this since he was a young teen, and it had never felt this good. He hardly wanted to let go.

Thorin lingered for a moment, before finally pulling back. "Try to get some rest, Bilbo."

Bilbo nods, slightly dazed, and Thorin chuckles quietly before guiding him into his room. He wandered towards his bed, curling up on the sheets, and tried not to focus on the lingering scent of _Thorin_ that clung to his clothes.

It was very difficult, and he was soon squirming in his sheets, _utterly_ distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by Janet4~ ^^
> 
> I expected this to end different, but I wasn't sure where I was going with it, haha~ ^^"


	3. Goldfish Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's pet goldfish is sick.
> 
> Thorin is the first veterinarian that doesn't tell him that he can buy another for three dollars down at the pet store.

Thorin worked as a veterinarian. It wasn't a job he particularly liked, but he was good at it, and he enjoyed working with all the different kinds of animals that were brought in. He worked late hours, too, so the weirdest walk-ins always fell into his shifts. 

Of course, he certainly didn't expect a short, curly-haired man with the biggest honey-coloured eyes he'd ever seen to come rushing into the reception room clutching a goldfish bowl to his chest.

"How can I help you...?" Thorin asks, placing down the pen in his hands.

"My fish is sick!" The man exclaims, looking close to tears as he sets the sloshing bowl on the desk. "Can you help me? Please?"

Thorin stares at him, feeling a mixture of amusement and pity. The man obviously had a deeply emotional attachment to the sinking goldfish, and probably wasn't ready to let him go. Thorin couldn't justify sending such a cute person home in tears.

"Why don't we go to the work room?" He offers. "The light is better there."

The man's eyes widen, and a look of absolute relief comes over his face. "Thank you!" He cries, clutching the bowl back up into his arms.

Thorin lead him to the work room, flicking on the good lights as he did. "Just place, ah, your fish on the table." He says, reaching into his coat pocket in search of a hair tie. "Now I'm not really an expert on goldfish, but I did set up my nephew's tank so I have some knowledge."

The man sniffles, wiping at his watery eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. 

Once he'd tied up his hair, he crouched down to look into the bowl at eyelevel. The goldfish was a good size - quite big, actually - and was rather pretty. Cotton-like growths appeared to have grown along one of it's fins and vaguely on its body. 

Thorin hums to himself. "This isn't its normal tank, is it?" He asks.

The man shakes his head, sniffling again. "No, his tank is really big. I had to put him in the bowl to get him to a vet."

Thorin nods. "Well, it looks like your fish has a fungal infection."

The man let out a lurching, worried noise as his brows turn up in concern.

"Don't worry, he should be alright." Thorin says soothingly, smiling a little. "I suggest fully cleaning out his current tank, and removing the active carbon from the filter. If you treat the water with Methylene Blue and aquarium salt, and made sure the water is healthy for the next few weeks, he'll be back to normal."

"Really?" The man's eyes widen, boring into Thorin's like nothing else Thorin had ever seen before. "He'll- he'll be alright?"

"He will." Thorin confirms with a nod. 

The man gives him a smile of complete relief. "Thank you so much, really."

"It's not a problem." Thorin says, leading him out from the room with a tentative hand on the small of his back. "It's nice to see someone who cares so much about their pet."

He gives Thorin a tentative smile, still looking a bit teary eyed. "You're the first veterinarian tonight who hasn't told me that I can go buy another for three dollars down at the pet store."

Thorin chuckles a little, and pats his shoulder. "You never told me your name."

The man flushes right up to the tips of his ears, and it's irresistibly adorable. "Sorry! I completely forget." He places down the fishbowl on the reception desk again, and holds out a small hand. "Bilbo Baggins."

Thorin grips his hand, amazed by the sheer size difference. Not to mention Bilbo's hands were so soft. "Thorin Oakenshield. It's nice to meet you, Bilbo."

Bilbo flushes, and smiles with a little more confidence. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nonsense." Thorin waves his hand. "You don't owe me anything. It's so boring here at night I feel like I should owe you something for your company." Thorin grins.

Bilbo looks up at him. "Are you sure?" He glances down at his pet. "You did save my fish..."

"I hardly think I saved him." Thorin chuckles. "You'll do all the hard work once you get home."

"Well, if you're sure." Bilbo smiles tentatively.

He looked rather handsome when he smiled. It made Thorin a little weak-kneed. "I'm sure." He says. "It's refreshing to see someone care so much about something as simple as a goldfish." He smiles a little. "You'd be a hero to my nephews, I'm sure. They love their fish, their mother thinks they spend more time watching the tank than they do at school."

Bilbo laughs. "I think I'm a little too attached... he's just a goldfish."

Thorin wanted to wince at Bilbo's insecure tone. It was terrible that some people would put others down for having an attachment to something silly, like a goldfish, because it really wasn't a problem. "But he's your goldfish." Thorin says.

Bilbo gives him a heartfelt smile. "Thank you, Thorin." He says. "I really do feel like I owe you, though. Would you... would you like to have dinner this weekend? I-if you want."

"I'd love to." Thorin says, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He flushes a little, but at Bilbo's grin he feels a sense of warmth fill his stomach rather reassuringly. He fishes around in the drawers before handing Bilbo a notepad and pen.

Bilbo obligingly writes down his name, number and address for Thorin, and hands back the notepad. "Talk to you later?" He ventures cautiously.

Thorin nods, grinning, letting his fingers linger on Bilbo's for a brief moment as he takes back the pen, too. "Talk to you later." He confirms.

Bilbo smiles, red in the cheeks, as he picks up his fish and makes his way towards the exit.

"Oh, Bilbo." Thorin calls.

Bilbo pauses at the door, turning his head back to look at him.

"What's the goldfish's name?"

Bilbo lets out a beautiful laugh, even though he turns redder in embarrassment. "It's Orcrist. Don't ask!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned to write a part two for yesteday's chapter, but I found this prompt on tumblr and it was just too cute! I had to write something for it, haha~
> 
> I still want to explore A/O/B a little deeper, I've only ever written it twice ^^"


	4. Goldfish Woes Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin visits Bilbo and his goldfish for a dinner date.

Thorin was nervous as he pulled into Bilbo's driveway. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about that darling little laugh the curly-haired man had, it never failed to bring a smile to his face.

He hadn't even realised he was smiling, either, until his sister had told him _"you look happy"_ with a knowing look and a soft little smile herself. And he supposed he was - happy, that is, because he hadn't been on a date in quite a few years, hadn't been genuinely interested in anyone for a lot longer than that. 

Bilbo's house looked quaint and cosy. His garden was impeccable, with rows of neat flowers and groomed hedges and a ceramic, goldfish statuette that made Thorin laugh to himself. It was just so _Bilbo._

Thorin had to sit in his car for a moment, holding the boxed strawberry shortcake he'd brought for them to eat after dinner. He couldn't remember feeling this nervous before, but after a few calming breaths he pulled himself together and made his way to the front door. 

Bilbo answered after the first ring of the doorbell, looking up at him from his spot half-hidden behind the door with wide eyes and cheeks red with nervousness. 

"Hello again." Thorin says, offering Bilbo a smile. He holds up the carry box. "I brought cake."

"Hello." Bilbo smiles, opening the door wider. "You didn't have to."

"I thought it would be nice." Thorin grins. "Hope you like strawberry shortcake."

"I do." Bilbo replies, leading him to the kitchen. "Thank you for coming."

Thorin's heart pounds at the nervous smile Bilbo gives him. "Thank you for having me." He says. "Now, how is Orcrist?"

Bilbo laughs, and after putting the cake in the fridge he leads Thorin through his home. "Orcrist seems much better! He's swimming stronger now, I bought him a new monument to cheer him up."

Thorin watches Bilbo, entranced by his expressive features. "A monument?"

Bilbo flushes, right up to his ears. "Ah..."

"No, tell me." Thorin says, cheekily poking Bilbo in the shoulder. 

"W-well, I didn't want him to be unstimulated or anything- and I know goldfish have really short attention spans, but I thought it'd be nice if- if he had some stimulation, you know?"

Thorin nods, listening attentively, and when Bilbo realises Thorin isn't going to laugh or ridicule him, a startlingly bright grin comes to his face.

"So you buy ornaments?" Thorin prompts.

Bilbo nods enthusiastically. "I didn't really want to just get the plant ones - the fake plants, because I thought it would be a struggle enough keeping just him alive - so I bought a few ornaments when I first got him and he really seemed to like them! Now I like to buy him a new one every few weeks, just to change it up a bit, you know?"

Thorin laughs. "What a lucky goldfish!"

Bilbo positively beams, full of confidence as he leads Thorin into the living room.

The first thing Thorin notices is the fish tank. It's pretty big for just a single goldfish, and full to the brim of colourful plants and flowers. 

"Wow." Thorin says, wide-eyed, as he moves across the room to crouch in front of the tank. "Is that a temple?" He peers closer at the ornaments, awed. "A bridge, too!"

Bilbo grins, nodding. "He likes to swim under the bridge - he was too chubby for the first one I bought, but this one he can slip right under!"

Thorin laughs. "He is quite a chubby goldfish! At the back there, is that a rock?"

Bilbo nods again. "It's hollow on the inside, and there are little gems stuck to the walls! It looks like a crystal cave. I think he likes that too."

"That's pretty cool." Thorin says, standing upright. "You certainly know how to treat a goldfish."

Bilbo flushes a little. "A lot of people say I put too much effort in..."

"How so?" Thorin frowns briefly. "I think it's great!"

Bilbo flushes again, but is smiling. 

He really was extremely attractive, Thorin didn't know how he'd ever get that bashful smile out of his mind. 

 

The evening went better than Thorin had expected. Bilbo was a wonderful cook - he made fettuccini with cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil and oregano, and Thorin had never tasted anything better. He wasn't afraid to say so, either, and he didn't know if his compliments made Bilbo extremely proud of extremely embarrassed. 

Either way, he looked positively delectable. 

By the time they were cutting into the cake, they'd moved from the dining room into the lounge room and turned on the television. It played an unmemorable show in the background, but Thorin was more focused on Bilbo. He was remarkable about his passions - he talked so charmingly, and almost seemed to get lost in his words before he suddenly went a little quiet and a little sheepish.

Thorin liked hearing him talk, though. He wondered why Bilbo was so self-conscious about his actions.

"So where do you work?" Thorin asks as he spoons a forkful of cake into his mouth.

"I work for a publishing company." Bilbo says. "I'm a writer."

"Sounds fun." Thorin grins. Bilbo did seem like a writer - it was the way he talked, Thorin thought.

"I do enjoy writing." Bilbo admits. "But the people are kind of... hard to tolerate, I think?"

"How so?"

"They're just... very judgemental, I think." Bilbo says cautiously. "My editor is lovely, though - Gandalf is sort of strange, and he seems like he's the only one who can make sense of what Radagast says, but he's very encouraging. His other writer, Galion, is also very nice. He has coffee with me sometimes."

"And the rest of the firm?"

Bilbo hums to himself, lowering his eyes. "Not very nice." He finally says. "But I only have to socialise at events, and I try to stay with Galion, so it's alright."

"I hope you don't let them walk over you." Thorin says, concerned.

"Ah, it's alright." Bilbo forces a smile, and shoves a cream-covered strawberry into his mouth. "This is very nice!"

Thorin nods in agreement slowly. "I'm glad you like it."

"Tell me about your job?" Bilbo asks.

Thorin leans back against the arm of the couch, tucking his legs up loosely as he hums thoughtfully. "Well, I mostly work the late shift, so I always get the weird animals and the litters of kittens that people find under their homes, or something."

"Weird animals?"

Thorin nods. "You wouldn't believe what walks in sometimes. Once, a person brought a bearded-dragon. I had no idea how to treat a bearded-dragon for stomach problems, but it turns out that the thing ate too much and was bloated."

Bilbo laughs.

"And you wouldn't believe how many odd mix breeds come in. This one lady had a Corgi cross a Toy Poodle - called it a Corgipoo."

Bilbo lifts a hand to hide his sudden burst of laughter. "C-corgipoo?"

"I'm being serious! Had a Chow Chow cross Siberian Husky once, too. Guess what it was called."

"It wasn't, was it?"

"A Chusky!" Thorin exclaims. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm qualified to perform surgery on your Chusky."

Bilbo snorts with laughter. 

"I have to say, though, the Cheagle that came in was the cutest darn thing I've ever seen."

"Cheagle? What is a Cheagle?" Bilbo cries through his laughter.

Thorin grins. "A Chihuahua and a Beagle mix." 

"Sounds cute." Bilbo grins back, cheeks flush with exhilaration.

"Oh, it was!" Thorin confirms. "Beagle sized ears on a Chihuahua sized head - rather endearing."

Bilbo laughs quietly. "I'd imagine it would be."

Thorin grins. "Was until it turned out the thing was an avid biter."

Bilbo bursts into laughter, flushed, and it makes Thorin smile a little. 

A beep from Bilbo's phone makes Bilbo pause in what he was about to say next. He fishes through his pockets after giving Thorin an apologetic smile, and opens the message.

Thorin frowns when he sees Bilbo expression fall a little. "What is it, Bilbo?"

"It's nothing-" Bilbo starts, but at Thorin's unbelieving expression, he sighs. "Just another reminder from Gandalf that I have to attend the next event."

"When is it?" Thorin asks.

"Two weeks."

"I can go with you, if you want." He offers tentatively, flushing when Bilbo's eyes snap up to his. "I mean, if you don't mind..."

"Are you sure?" Bilbo asks, frowning in concern as he squirms a little. "The people there are sort of rude... they'll probably think I paid you to go with me." He murmurs, looking down again. "I don't want their... opinions to change how you think of me."

Thorin leans forward to gently scoop up one of Bilbo's hands in his own. "I don't think that will happen, Bilbo." He says, giving Bilbo a reassuring smile. "You're pretty fantastic."

Bilbo flushes at the praise. His hand trembles a little. "If you're sure..."

"I am."

"Then- then I would love for you to come."

 

It was close to midnight when Thorin realised it was probably time for him to go. He'd spent hours talking with Bilbo about everything from family to work to nothing in particular.

"Thank you for having me, Bilbo." Thorin says as Bilbo sees him off at the door. "I haven't had this much fun in years."

Bilbo smiles. "I'm glad." He says. "Thank you for coming."

"It was my pleasure." THorin grins, because it really was. "Talk to you tomorrow, then."

Bilbo nods, and lifts a hand in a little wave as Thorin heads towards his car.

"Oh, Bilbo, if I can ask." Thorin says, pausing at his car door.

"Yes...?"

"Why the name Orcrist?" Thorin asks. He was undeniably curious - it sounded like such a strong, brawny name for a goldfish. 

Bilbo laughs. "Don't ask!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - a lot of people asked about the name, so I thought I'd explain~ ^^
> 
> Because I am a terrible Hobbit fan, the names Smaug and Smeagol didn't even occur to me, haha~ //slapped  
> I briefly considered Acorn, Sting and Glamdring, but Orcrist just sounds so threatening and tough and goldfish... are not.
> 
> I thought it was very ironic, but my sense of humour is probably extremely lacking~ ^^"
> 
> I have another problem (sort of) coming up - on Wednesday I have an overnight trip to Taronga for school, so I won't have time to write at all. During the day we have a study skill workshop, but there is an hour between the time we leave and the time we finish the workshop for us to come home and prepare. I live less than a minute from my school, so I have the full hour, but I'm unsure if I can write all too much during that small interval.
> 
> Would it be terribly bad if I posted something painfully short on Wednesday? The thought of posting (and writing) nothing at all (or less than 250 words, which is my absolute minimum for days just like Wednesday) is a lot worse than the thought of posting nothing, you know? ^____T


	5. Goldfish Woes Pt.III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's event goes worse than Thorin thought it would.

"Thorin, you look fine." Dis groused, her arms crossed as she lounged on his bed.

"I need to look better than _fine."_ Thorin huffs, shoulders-deep in his closet. "He said the events are formal, Dis, and formal is a higher standard than _fine."_

Dis sighs. "Frerin is going to drop off the boys soon, I have to get home you know." She says, even as she stands and forcefully removes him from the closet to do her own digging. "It's not that I don't trust him with them, but they're such a handful, and he's just like them, he's-" She grunts, and flings something straight into his face. "Never really grown up, you know?"

Thorin frowns at her. He was the eldest, out of the three of them, and Dis was the youngest. "He's older than you."

"And yet, I'm so much more mature than him." She sighs, as if completely put out, and she pulls out a crisp white shirt. "Where are your suspenders? They make your shoulders look good."

"Top left drawer." Thorin answers offhandedly as he changes into the pants Dis threw at him while she is distracted. They were black, and matched the tailored suit jacket that Dis pulled out next. "Thanks."

"You really have it bad for this guy." Dis says, moving towards his tallboy. "What's he like, anyway?"

"He's really nice." Thorin says, absently buttoning up the white shirt. "He's a writer, and he talks in a way that's very... I don't know, it's captivating."

Dis hums contemplatively. "What does he look like, again?"

"He's shorter than me." Thorin answers. "And he has curly hair. His eyes are a really nice colour."

Dis chuckles. "You're terrible at describing people, you know." She says. "I want to meet him."

Thorin flushes, scowling. "You'll terrorize him."

"What? No." Dis grins, handing him the suspenders. "He'll love me."

Thorin rolls his eyes. Partially, that was what he was afraid of. His little sister was quite the personality. 

"How'd you meet, again?" She asks.

He tries not to answer her question as he pulls on the suspenders and the jacket, but her silence is persistent. "He came into the clinic." Thorin finally says.

"You don't want to tell me." Dis accuses.

Well, she wasn't wrong. Thorin didn't want to tell her for a number of reasons - partly because he felt like it would embarrass Bilbo, and that felt like breaking trust, and partly because he liked the idea of keeping the little story between the two of them, little sisters exclusively _not allowed to hear._

"Thanks for helping me." Thorin says, as he checks the time. "But you might want to get home before Frerin does."

Dis sighs at him. "Have fun with your new friend, then." She says with a cheeky grin. "And make sure you do your hair neatly! Don't look like you're just crawled out of bed after sleeping for fourteen hours."

"That was one time!"

 

Thorin was fairly certain he looked formal enough. He'd made sure not to wrinkle his suit after he'd put it on, and he'd brushed his teeth for an extra minute, and he'd tied his hair up in a respectable ponytail with a braid down the side and a thin strand left hanging by his face. 

Dis had had him wear his hair like this for her wedding, so he assumed it was good enough for a formal event.

Even though he knew Bilbo a lot better, he was still painfully nervous as he pulled up to Bilbo's home. He'd offered to drive them there, because it wasn't as nerve-wracking as taking the car the company sent.

He rang the doorbell after forcing himself to calm down, and certainly was not expecting to see what he did when Bilbo shyly answered the door.

If Thorin thought Bilbo looked in his sweaters, then he looked absolutely _stunning_ in formal wear.

Thorin outright stared at him. He was dressed in dark, fitting trousers with a white shirt and a maroon waistcoat, with a dark suit jacket. He'd never seen anyone look so beautiful before, it was giving him heart stutters.

Not to mention the fact that Bilbo's cheeks were flushed, and his hair was neatly brushed, and his eyes were glowing with awe.

"You look really..." Bilbo breathes out. "Handsome."

"I can say the same about you." Thorin answers, just as softly, before smiling. "Shall we go?"

Bilbo nods, smiling shyly as he steps out and locks the door.

The drive over was nice, and comfortable. Thorin left the radio on quietly in the background, and listened avidly as Bilbo spoke of Orcrist and the new plant (made of plastic, of course) that he bought just two days ago. It was rather relaxing to listen to him, Thorin thought.

As they pulled into the complex, Bilbo went a little quiet.

"Are you worried?" Thorin asks, turning the car off.

Bilbo nods, looking at his lap as he furrows his brows. "I'm not... not sure how they'll react to you, honestly." He says. "I've never brought anyone, and I didn't tell anyone other than Gandalf that I was bringing someone."

Thorin reached across the console and gently picked up one of Bilbo's hands to hold in his own. "Don't worry, Bilbo." He says with a reassuring smile. "I'm here for you, not them, yeah?"

Bilbo smiles, a little wobbly, but seems a little more reassured when they exit the car and make their way to the event.

 

The presentation hall was filled with people in suits and ties and formal dresses and gloves and heels. Thorin had never seen so many high-class people in one sitting, it was very intimidating. He could only imagine how Bilbo felt, coming here alone.

Thorin could certainly see the way others looked at Bilbo. He kept a hand pressed to the small of Bilbo's back, only removing it to politely shake someone's hand before returning it. Every time someone strolled over he could feel Bilbo tense, but with a little pressure he seemed to relax.

Thorin got introduced to a lot of people that seemed more interested in him than Bilbo. He could hardly remember their names - expect for Gandalf and Galion, both of whom greeted Bilbo with friendliness and genuine interest before asking about Thorin himself. He got the feeling that not many people liked Bilbo all too much, and he couldn't figure out why.

When they got separated for a time, though, he certainly got to see the true colours of the people Bilbo had to associate with.

"You're here with Bilbo, right?" One lady asked, leaning into him. "Why? Do you owe him a favour?"

"No." Thorin frowned. "I offered to come with him."

"Oh!" She laughed, as if she didn't believe him.

"Did he pay you?" Another whispered. "Had someone do that a few years back - never showed up again."

"No." Thorin answered, frowning deeper.

"You're just so handsome! Can't see why someone like you would come with someone like him."

Another nodded in agreement before Thorin could argue. "He's just so _weird!_ Did you know he has a pet fish that he treats like a child? It's just a fish! Probably will die in a month."

Another snorted. "It'll probably starve, what with the amount Bilbo eats."

Thorin looked at her harshly. "I don't know what you're talking about." He all but snarls. "Now, if you'll- _excuse_ me." He forces his way out of their tight circle, eyes swiftly searching for Bilbo.

He finds him wandering around the outskirts of the hall, looking uncomfortable and a little uneasy.

Thorin approaches him as fast as he can, ignoring anyone who could possibly want to talk to him. "Bilbo." He breathes a sigh of relief when he's close to the curly-haired man again. "I don't understand how you can possibly stand to be around these people."

Bilbo looks at him, startled, but smiles a little.

"When can we leave?" Thorin asks, giving him a pouty look. "I don't think my lungs can handle the stench of heavy perfume for much longer."

Bilbo chuckles, looking a little more comfortable. "Soon..."

 

Thorin was relieved when they were finally able to leave, and hung around at Bilbo's house for a little while afterwards, even taking the time to check on Orcrist. 

"What were... what were those people talking about to you earlier?" Bilbo asks, fiddling with his fingers anxiously.

Thorin sighs. "It was nothing." He says.

Bilbo squirms. "Was it about me...?" He asks quietly.

Thorin winces. "Yeah..."

"I guess it wasn't good then." Bilbo whispers, tearful.

"Not particularly." Thorin admits. "I don't like those kind of people, Bilbo. I'm sorry you have to interact with them."

Bilbo looks up at him, eyes wide. "That's not what people normally say."

Thorin smiles a little, reaching for Bilbo's hand again. "That's okay, isn't it?"

Bilbo looks down again. "I'm sorry." He whispers.

"What for?" Thorin frowns.

Bilbo ducks his head down further. "For making you go, making you come here. I'm not worth it- you're so- so _handsome_ and I'm just- not, and you're so _nice-"_

Thorin didn't like hearing Bilbo talk about himself like that, it felt so wrong. He couldn't help it when he gripped Bilbo's chin, forcing it up, and claimed his lips in a bruising kiss.

Bilbo gasped in surprise, his breath laboured.

"You're adorable." He gasps into Bilbo's mouth, kissing him harder, crowding him back against the couch. "I don't understand how they-" He pauses to kiss Bilbo again, feeling more than seeing Bilbo melt into his touches. "You're too cute, too pretty, it's just-" He presses another kiss to Bilbo's mouth, lingering just a little longer than usual. "Don't talk about yourself like that, okay?" He finally says, making sure to keep eye contact with Bilbo.

Bilbo was panting, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. "You think... I'm pretty?"

"How could I not?" Thorin chuckles weakly. "You have curls and such bright eyes and a round little nose and cute hands, and the way you talk about things-" He sighs, smiling, "The way you talk about things you enjoy is so passionate, I just love listening. I don't care what it's about, you make anything sound so _interesting-_ I could listen for hours."

"Even if it's just about a goldfish...?" Bilbo murmurs.

"Hey, your goldfish is special." Thorin says cheekily. "You make him special. You're so attentive Bilbo, I feel special when I get even a little bit of your attention. I've never met anyone like you."

Bilbo smiles, cheeks flushed. He was trembling a little - Thorin could feel it. "You're rather pretty, too, you know. I feel like I don't deserve your affection."

"I think it's much the other way around." Thorin says, chuckling. When he leans in to kiss Bilbo again, Bilbo doesn't seem so shocked, and tentatively returns it. "What's makes Orcrist so special to you, anyway? I want to know." _I want to be that special too._

Bilbo smiles, as if he could read Thorin's intentions, and gently touched his cheek. "Don't ask." 

_You already are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to continue this series, I have so many ideas, but tomorrow is my overnight trip to the zoo so I won't have enough time to write something long, haha~ ^____T
> 
> Also, this is woefully edited, I ran out of time tonight~ please excuse any mistakes!


	6. So Little Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo just wanted to spend more time with the kids.

Bilbo sighed, resting his chin in his hand. He had so much to do and so little time - he had to finish his English theory, and he had to pick Frodo up from day care, and there was a mountain of clothes that needed to be folded.

Half the time, it didn't seem like getting a degree was worth it, because university was difficult and the hours were draining and he just wanted to spend more time with Frodo and Kili and Fili and Thorin.

Of course, he still technically got to spend time with Thorin - the man was his professor, after all.

But he had to learn from Thorin during class hours, not admire him from across the lecture hall (even though he did a lot of that, too).

Today just wasn't his day, though.

"You seem distracted today, love." Thorin says as he approaches.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Bilbo nods. The hall was empty, so the sound of Thorin rattling the desk as he sat on the edge was rather loud. "I just want to go home." He sighs.

Thorin chuckles, reaching out a hand to brush a curl from his forehead. "Just because you're sleeping with the professor doesn't mean you can slack off work." He teases.

Bilbo grins. "Not even if I make spaghetti for dinner?"

Thorin rolls his eyes - it was his favourite, and his nephew's favourite. "Not even then."

"Not even if I look after his kids, too? I promise I'll be nice."

Thorin laughs. "Not even then!" He says, grinning, as he pats Bilbo's cheek gently. "I'll help you catch up tonight, is that okay? After the spaghetti."

Bilbo nods, sighing in contentment as he stretches leisurely. "I can go pick up Frodo, now." He says, grinning.

Thorin rolls his eyes. "Don't rub it in." He drops a kiss to Bilbo's forehead, and sees him to the entrance of the university. "I'll be home in a few hours, okay?"

Bilbo nods. "Want me to pick up the boys, too?"

"If you can."

Bilbo grins. He never wasted an opportunity to spend more time with their boys, even if the three of them all together were a bit of a handful when it was just himself. "Course I can!"

Thorin chuckles again, and takes a moment to press a chaste kiss to Bilbo's lips. "Have fun." He says quietly.

"See you soon." He replies, smiling, before turning away and heading towards the car.

He knew Thorin missed out on the family time sometimes, so he made sure to send him photos as often as possible - he'd be sending them all afternoon, it seemed.


	7. A Little Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili convince Frodo that living with an Uncle isn't so bad.

Frodo rubbed his knees together, frowning anxiously at his small hands. 

He didn't like the big halls of Erebor. The Dwarves were all tall and hairy, and they looked at him funny sometimes. They grew too much hair from their faces, so Frodo couldn't see if they were smiling or not. It was scary. 

And he didn't know how to talk to his Uncle. Uncle Bilbo seemed really nice, but he wasn't like Frodo's parents, so he didn't want to be impolite. Uncle Bilbo was always around the Dwarves, too - Frodo didn't want to approach him in case he got into trouble.

He chewed his lip, curling his fingers into fists. What was he meant to do?

"Hello."

Frodo jumped at the voice, eyes jerking up to stare widely at the two Dwarves that had approached him. He shrunk back from them, tearful, because although he recognised them he couldn't remember their names.

"I'm Fili." The blonde one crouches before him, and offers a hand with a soft smile. "And this is my brother, Kili."

Frodo knew it was rude to not shake someone's hand, so he shakily put his hand in Fili's and allowed the Dwarf to hold it. Fili's smile was oddly reassuring. 

"Bilbo is your Uncle, right?" Fili asks.

Frodo, a little puzzled, nods his head.

"Thorin is our Uncle." Kili says, and at Frodo's distraught look, he turns and points to the tall Dwarf who was constantly standing by his Uncle's side. "The one with the dark hair and blue coat. See him?"

Frodo blinks several times, and nods. "He's always next to Uncle Bilbo..." He says quietly. 

Fili nods, and carefully takes a seat beside Frodo. "That's because our Uncle Thorin is very close to your Uncle Bilbo." He explains. He was still holding Frodo's hand gently, as if it were made of porcelain, but Frodo didn't find it off-putting.

"It's a little difficult to live with an Uncle, don't you think?" Fili asks. "It's not like living with parents."

Frodo startles at that, nodding several times. "How did you know that?" He asks.

"We live with our Uncle, too." Kili explains as he fills the other seat beside Frodo. "Fili and I went on the journey with your Uncle, but even before then we lived with him, so we know what it's like."

Frodo stares at him, feeling a little less nervous. "H-how... How-?"

Fili rubs his hand soothingly. "It's a little difficult to adjust." He says, somehow knowing what Frodo was struggling to ask. "But Uncle's are very caring people, you know? And we know your Uncle very much, he's like our Uncle now as well. I know for sure that you can ask him anything and he'll give it to you."

"R-really...?" Frodo asks, wide-eyed. "B-but... Dwarves are, um..."

"A little scary, huh?" Kili laughs. "That's okay, Dwarves are kind of scary on the outside." He says. "It's okay to think that, Frodo. Eventually you'll get to know them, and they won't be so scary anymore."

"They won't...?"

"Of course not!" Kili grins. "We're not so scary now that you know us, are we?"

Frodo shakes his head.

"There you go." Fili pats his hand. "Now, about your Uncle - are you a little scared of him, too?"

Frodo frowns, and shakes his head. "Not scared..."

Fili hums in thought. "Not scared, but maybe a little nervous?"

Frodo nods, eyes wide. 

Fili smiles at him. "That's okay, too." He reassures. "It's normal to feel a little nervous. But you know what?"

"What...?"

"Your Uncle loves you very much." Fili says. "He told me so. And he's a little nervous, too."

Frodo's eyes widen further. "Uncle's get nervous, too?"

"Of course they do." Kili says. "Uncle Bilbo wants to make sure you're happy here. He's worried that you'll not like Erebor, or that you'll not like living with him."

"B-but..."

"It may not be how you feel." Fili soothes. "But Uncle Bilbo is a very anxious person, don't you think? He cares about you very much, Frodo."

"M-me too!"

Fili smiles faintly. "Why don't you try telling him that?"

Frodo stares at him for a moment, and glances back over at his Uncle, who was still surrounded by Dwarves that he didn't know (but he recognised Thorin).

"If you go up to him, I'm sure he'll be happy." Fili says. "The Dwarves he's talking to are all really nice. They went on the journey with us."

Frodo breathes in sharply, but when Fili squeezes his hand reassuringly he nods to himself. "Okay..."

"You'll be alright." Kili pats him on the back as he slips off of his chair. 

Frodo gripped the edge of his shirt as he tentatively walked towards his Uncle. He felt shaky, but when he glanced back at Fili and Kili and they smiled at him, he felt a little better.

Uncle Bilbo didn't notice him until Frodo gently touched his waist. A few of the Dwarves were already watching him, and it didn't make him feel good. 

But Uncle Bilbo's hand automatically came down to rest on the back of his head, nudging him a little closer. Frodo was oddly comforted by the gesture. 

"Are you alright, Frodo?" Bilbo asks quietly.

Frodo makes a small sound, squirming uncomfortably. 

Bilbo politely excuses himself from the conversation with the Dwarves immediately, and gently guides Frodo to a quiet spot across the hall. He crouches down, hands pressed against the outside of Frodo's shoulders as his warm eyes search Frodo's face anxiously. 

"Frodo?" He prompts again. 

Frodo blinks at him, but doesn't know what to say. So, he reaches forwards, grips the back of Uncle Bilbo's shirt as he pushes his face against his Uncle's neck. Uncle Bilbo's skin is warm, and he smelt like home.

He was almost startled when Uncle Bilbo opened his arms, holding on tightly to Frodo as if this is what he had been waiting for. He hadn't been hugged like this in a long time, and it felt really good.

"You're alright, though?" Uncle Bilbo asks quietly, picking Frodo up as he stands.

Frodo nods, smoothing a little hand over his Uncle's neck, the stray curls that had grown a little too long ticking his fingers. 

Uncle Bilbo cuddles him a little closer for a moment, and Frodo can feel him smiling.

It left him feeling very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by THE_PurpleShirt~ ^^


	8. King's Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It spread its spindly fingers, hiding in the pain of grief to quickly take over everything that made a person capable of breathing. It was so quiet, so unobtrusive and so unnoticeable that Bilbo believed no one would ever truly understand it but himself.

Bilbo had never mulled over the thought of a tragedy, not like he mulled over the thoughts of other strange parts that came with the condition of living.

In fact, the word had hardly surfaced in his life before he had happened to go on a strange journey to reclaim a home that was never his, and would never be his.

The word itself brings a strange taste to his mouth. He tastes a clogging coldness in the word, a subtle bitterness like the taste of tears when a person cried as quietly as they could, or the taste of thin blood from a lip bitten just one too many times. 

Tragedy was a subtle kind of sadness. Even though it was a form of great destruction, of great suffering and great distress often brought on by crime or catastrophe, it didn't sound like something all too dangerous.

It just sounded like something that happened quietly,in the middle of at night, without anyone really realising. Like it snuck into a person's chest and curled up, content to rest there for as long as it willed itself to stay. Like tragedy was just the tolling of a bell in the distance that didn't alter a person's perception of time, because it was just a sound in the distance.

He came to think, when he returned back to Bag-End, that he might have been living in a tragedy for quite a while without ever realising.

The downfall - if it could be called that - of Thorin Oakenshield's death left his fingers cold and his lips numb. Sitting on a rock, away from the company with a blanket over his shoulders, he'd wept, because the sudden idea of Thorin not being there was unlike any other thought he'd had before.

Bag-End was a very quiet place. He appreciated the quiet, but the _silence_ \- that was something completely different. Everything was untouched, covered in a layer of thin dust. Bag-End didn't seem to facilitate life anymore, and yet there he was, breathing in and out over and over and over...

That was living, wasn't it? He was alive. He still went on walks during dusk, watching the first blooming of stars across the sky, and he could still hear the sound of his feet padding across the floors of Bag-End. He still dreamed of things when he slept, and still opened his eyes in the morning to the very first rays of sunlight, as if his body still believed he were on an adventure.

Maybe it wasn't living. 

Absently, he rubbed his hands over one another, again and again and again. He could feel the hills of his knuckles, the flat plains of the tops of his hands and the smooth surface of his fingernails at the end of his cold fingers.

They never really felt warm anymore.

Sometimes, he thought he saw a different hand holding his. A larger one, with thick, capable fingers that had dirt under the nails, and knuckles that were much harder and more worn than his own, and skin that was tanned and calloused from overwork and hard labour. It felt a lot like he was still dreaming, like he could still wake up at any moment.

A lot of the time, he wondered what a tragedy was.

He'd planted the acorn. He'd put it in a little pot, telling himself that he'd plant it in his garden when it was strong enough, but he knew he never would.

Day after day, he waited to see the acorn grow. He thought that he'd feel something if it did, that he'd remember something good, something that he'd forgotten.

It never did grow, and he soon forgot all about it, as well.

A lot of the time, he thought about Thorin. He thought about the way Thorin had first sung that song, right in his living room, and he spent hours curled up in the chair that Thorin had sat in.

He could never bring himself to sit in the dining room, where he once would have eaten a nice dinner in front of the fireplace.

He'd spent a day rearranging the room, moving the antique chairs that no one was supposed to sit in into the room to fit around the mismatched tables he dragged in, until there was enough room to seat fourteen.

He often sat in the chair to the left of the one at the head of the table, where he once would have sat. He couldn't sit in that chair anymore - couldn't physically bring himself to do it, because even though the Hobbits of the Shire called Bag-End his home, it really wasn't anymore.

Eventually he couldn't stand to look at the dining room, so he lived in the living room, curled up on Thorin's chair with his small chest of treasures on the coffee table.

One day, while he stared at the chest, he realised he couldn't remember what Thorin looked like. He couldn't hear Thorin's voice in his head anymore, not singing or talking or even just humming.

He couldn't remember.

And for some reason, it didn't hurt. He couldn't tell if it was painful or not.

That was when he realised what a tragedy was. It wasn't something that hit a person hard, something that destroyed quickly and ruthlessly. It wasn't like a fire, burning all in it's path, but leaving nourishing ashes when the embers were gone from which new life could be nurtured and drawn into living again.

A tragedy was excruciatingly slow, it was something that crept in like the cold of winter. It spread its spindly fingers, hiding in the pain of grief to quickly take over everything that made a person capable of breathing. It was so quiet, so unobtrusive and so unnoticeable that Bilbo believed no one would ever truly understand it but himself.

One day soon, a concerned Hobbit would wander up the winding paths to Bag-End, and find that Bilbo had drifted away without anyone noticing.

Because he'd been living in a tragedy, and no one believed it could have been so painful.


	9. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo thinks that maybe, just maybe, these Dwarves will be worth saving.

Bilbo felt drowsy, warmed by mid-morning sunlight and the scent of flowers that bloomed when the first rays of light hit them. It was all terribly dreary, perhaps, but not entirely unwelcome. 

Bag-End was a perfectly respectable home, he thought. Not many folk dared to wander into the Shire, and not many made it all the way to Bag-End without being led back out of the forest. The Shire was a terribly dangerous place, for those who were not Hobbits, after all. Getting lost meant never, ever getting out.

So he was rather surprised when he heard the sound of travellers who were clearly not Hobbits.

The respectable, Baggins half of himself told him to stay where he was, basking in the sun. It was a respectable thing to do - the travellers were likely already so lost to the forests of the Shire, it would be cruel to appear before them, in a way. Any other Hobbit would have left them, at this point in time.

Unfortunately, Bilbo was also half Took, thanks to his mother. He hardly realised he had stood from his seat and was walking towards the noises before he came upon them.

He supposed he was glad that the travellers didn't assume he was game meat. He was so comfortable in the forest that he didn't he realise he was still wandering around in the form of a deer, antlers stretched high, legs delicately stepping over fallen foliage, eyes doe-brown and calm. 

He guessed it was the look in his eyes - a look of cognitive intelligence, a look of awareness and sensibility - that made the archer near the head of the company slowly lower his bow. 

For a moment, Bilbo found himself confused as to what they were, exactly. Only for a moment.

They were Dwarves - thirteen of them, with the most hair on their chins that Bilbo had ever seen, and eyes full of determination and seriousness and a little playfulness and wariness, depending on whom one looked at.

Bilbo wanted to sigh to himself, because now that he'd seen the Dwarves, and they'd seen him, he'd feel terribly guilty if he were to simply leave them to wilt in the forest. 

"What is it?" The archer whispered.

"I don't know." The blonde-haired Dwarf next to him whispered back.

Bilbo huffed indignantly, lifting his head a little. It? He was a Hobbit, thank you very much! Of course the people he chose to save would be indignant and downright impolite. 

There was a Dwarf at the head of the company, wearing a blue coat with dark hair, who gave them a withering look.

"Ah, Bilbo!"

He turned his head a little at the sound of his name. It was a Wizard that spoke it - Gandalf the Grey, Bilbo thought. He was the only Wizard that dared get lost in the Shire, because he had an uncanny knack for stumbling upon Hobbits willing to lead him back out.

"You know this creature?" The Dwarf at the front says, frowning.

"I doubt he'll take you calling him a creature lightly." Gandalf says. "This, is a Hobbit. They rule this forest. You should consider yourselves lucky he chose to find us."

"I don't understand." Another Dwarf says. "Looks like just a deer to me."

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. Just a deer? He was no such thing! He had form more similar to theirs, but doubted he would ever feel comfortable showing it to them, at this rate. He was almost tempted to leave them, but he knew they'd die if he did.

_Why are you here?_

He had to admit, it was rather satisfying to see the entire company startle at the sound of his voice. He almost wanted to laugh.

"We're passing through." Gandalf supplies, ignoring the spluttering coming from the Dwarves behind him. "It was quickest to pass through the Shire."

_And you were sure I'd come._ Bilbo answers dryly, lowering his head just a little. Sometimes, the way in which Gandalf bended luck to his whims was rather infuriating. 

"The deer is talking!" A Dwarf exclaims, sounding somewhat angry, or shocked, Bilbo couldn't tell. "It's voice is in my head!"

"Mine too!"

_I think I've made a mistake._ Bilbo says, turning his head. _I should leave you all to die._

"Help us." The dark-haired Dwarf suddenly says, looking at Bilbo with such an intensity in his eyes that it makes Bilbo pause where he stands. "Please."

The company quietens at the sound of their leader.

"Thorin." One murmurs, but even he quietens at a sharp look from Thorin.

The Dwarf slowly turns his gaze back to Bilbo. "Help us."

There was something about him - something that reminded Bilbo of a distant ache, one he hadn't felt since his parents had died. It was like the feeling of forgetting the voice of the ones you loved, the way they sounded moving around the house in the morning, the way their hair smelt when they held on tightly, the way they looked.

It felt like forgetting a precious memory. 

It hurt. Somehow, it hurt.

_I'll... I'll help._ He says, just to Thorin, as he maintains eye-contact and keeps as still as possible, as if the slightest movement would scare the Dwarf off. _You've... you've lost something, something important._

Thorin appears somewhat startled, and tries to hide his curiosity. 

_This way, then._ Bilbo says. He didn't feel like giving the Dwarf the knowledge of his thoughts. _Don't stray, for I won't help if you do._

"What's he saying?" A Dwarf whispers, somewhat harshly.

Thorin silences them with a hand. "Don't stray." He repeats quietly. "Bilbo will help."

It was odd to hear his name come from the Dwarf, too.

Bilbo thinks that maybe, just maybe, these Dwarves will be worth saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by Griffonskies~ ^^
> 
> _"Memento Mori" is the word given to an object that is kept as a reminder of the inevitability of death - I feel like that for this, the reminder of death is a precious memory of something that no longer exists._


	10. Memento Mori Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was just something very alluring about him. He was a tenseness, a gust of wind that chilled right through fur and hair and clothes, and something about him hurt like a bruise that Bilbo didn't want to fade.

For all it was worth, Bilbo was undeniably curious. 

And while he did appreciate the vitality in said curiosity, he didn't appreciate having it himself. It was a driving force that made him restless and twitchy, and he completely and utterly blamed the Dwarves.

Well, mostly Thorin.

There was just something very alluring about him. He was a tenseness, a gust of wind that chilled right through fur and hair and clothes, and something about him hurt like a bruise that Bilbo didn't want to fade.

It was soulfully bewildering.

And it was quite possibly the one thing that made him consider Gandalf's offer of joining them on their journey.

It was all rather unexpected, but he had time to think on it. They were still a few day's travel from the edge of the Shire.

After the first day, Bilbo started to tire of the constant questions.

They were innocent in nature enough for him to remain quiet, though. Most just asked about Hobbits in general, about his lifestyle and what he could do.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was rather intrigued by Dwarves, as well. As he was, he was taller than them by at least a head, not including his antlers. If he were to shift back, however, he was fairly certain he would be smaller than even the youngest Dwarf - a little scribe who went by the name Ori.

It was approaching night when Bilbo noticed the Dwarves getting restless. He wondered when they last slept - properly slept - and when they last ate, and found himself a little concerned. Hobbits ate up to seven times a day, after all.

He was a little shocked, however, to hear that the Dwarves planned to go hunting. And considering there were no rivers near here, and hares would likely be cocooned in their dens at this time, his mind only supplied one source of food - deer meat. 

He turned his head and levelled his gaze on Thorin. _No hunting._ He says.

Thorin startled at his voice, and frowned at him. "We must eat." He says. 

Bilbo turned his head back towards the entire company, who had quietened at Thorin's voice. _Let me put it this way._ Bilbo says. _You hunt anything but fish or hare, and I'll not look back when I leave._

He was hardly surprised by the growled grumbles he got in return. Several Dwarves protested - Dwalin, Bombur, who Bilbo thought was possibly named Nori - but it was Balin who quickly spoke up.

"His request is reasonable." He says. "We'll sequent to it, Bilbo."

"But what will we eat?" Kili cried, frowning in a way that reminded Bilbo of Fauntlings. 

_There are other things the forest can provide._ Bilbo says idly. _Aside from meat._

He was hardly interested in the Dwarves distaste for vegetables and other organic food, considering it was a staple in his diet. In fact, he rather ignored them, instead turning his head towards Balin, who seemed to be the only rational Dwarf in the entire company.

 _I can take you to find food._ He offers. _Or you can go without until we reach the edge of the Shire._

Balin seemed surprised that Bilbo's voice only appeared in his head, but he recovered quickly enough. "Take a few of us, if possible. Any food is better than none."

It was begrudgingly decided that Fili, Thorin, Dori and Oin would accompany Bilbo, while Balin was left in charge of the company. Bilbo was unsure as to where Gandalf had wandered off to, but he didn't dwell on it for too long. 

"What exactly are we looking for?" Dori asks as they amble through the forest behind him.

Bilbo thought that the Dwarves were as graceful on their legs (and small, hairless feet) as a newborn Fauntling. They certainly made enough noise to scare off any possible game they wished to eat, and to hear so much noise was rather unsettling when one was used to silent hooves.

 _There are berries you can eat._ Bilbo says. _They're small, and round. I often use them in broth, myself. There are savoury fruits that grow on the trees in this area as well._

Dori nods, though he didn't look enthusiastic.

Bilbo lifted his head, and paused. 

"What is it?" Thorin asks, sensing his discomfort.

 _I don't know..._ Bilbo answered uneasily. _Something is wrong. Terribly wrong, but I can't tell what. The forest is unnerved._

Nothing happened that night, but Bilbo got tense anytime the Dwarves were too loud for comfort and made a point of standing at the edge of the clearing to startle them into silence. He was relieved when they finally drifted off into sleep, still grumbling about dinner. Thorin was on watch, and walked across the clearing to stand beside him.

"Is something the matter?" He asks quietly.

Bilbo turns his gaze to Thorin, lifted his chin a little. _Yes. A storm, possibly._

Thorin watches him for a moment, eyes filled with shards of blue that were as sharp as ice. "I'd never heard of the Shire before Gandalf walked us right into it."

 _I suppose you wouldn't have._ Bilbo answers. _Not many people travel this far West - most don't leave Bree in this direction, lest they're willing to get lost._

"And Hobbits? You do not get lost here?"

Bilbo wanted to smile a little. _No, we do not._ He says. _Hobbits... we understand the Shire. Yavanna made it so - residual magic, that isn't quite magic, allows us to take this form. We have a symbiotic relationship with the woods, that's beneficial to all involved._

Thorin nods. "What do you look like? In your other form."

_You're curious._

Thorin looks at him, as if he couldn't believe he was so easily readable. Nevertheless, he nods. "I am."

Bilbo, subtly pleased at his forwardness (because Hobbits loved to play with words and were great at making excuses), lowers his head a little. _Shorter than you, I believe._ He answers obligingly. _Pointy ears, curly hair. All very unassuming, I assure you._

Thorin still looked interested.

 _You'd probably be disappointed if I showed you._ Bilbo answers, somewhat amused. _Compared to this... we're rather plain, by design of course. Best to appear unassuming, so not to expose ourselves._

Thorin nods.

_Maybe I'll show you one day._

"I feel as though you can read my mind." Thorin says, his brows dipping a little. "It's rather unnerving how you do that."

Bilbo chuckles. _You learn to observe people really well when you live like this._

"'Like this?'" Thorin frowns.

Bilbo casts his eyes out into the depths of the forest. _In this forest. You learn to wait, and to watch - you listen, and you see things that sometimes aren't actually there, and it's all rather delirious sometimes. Many things hold memories that you become a witness to, if you should so spot it._

"I'm not sure I understand."

_I don't expect you to._

Thorin watches him, and Bilbo gets the distinct feeling of forlornness, as if Thorin was experiencing the loneliness he himself often felt. The silence stretched, and Bilbo almost smiled. 

_Maybe you do understand._

"Not well enough." Thorin answers quietly.

Bilbo watches him, and on a whim he dips his head and presses his nose against Thorin's temple. _Cheer up._ He says. _I can only imagine how great a King you'll make._

Thorin startles, both at his touch and at his words. "See, you've done it again." He says, reaching over to rest a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. His palm is warm, even through Bilbo's thick layers of fur. "I don't understand how you figure that out."

 _I don't think I could explain it, either._

Thorin observes him for a moment, and Bilbo sees there is a little twinkle of curiosity in his eyes that Bilbo finds undeniably exciting. 

Bilbo blinks slowly, thinking for a moment. _It's like... everyone is a collection of memories, and when a keyhole into one makes itself noticeable, I can't help but peek through. Think of memories like objects, and once observed, they become a part of you, too._

"What do you see in me?" Thorin asks. 

_I could ask you the same of me, but I doubt our answers will be anything similar._ Bilbo answers.

Thorin nods, his curiosity sated - for the moment.

 

Bilbo could see the restlessness in Thorin, the yearning for something just out of the reach of his fingertips, the way his shoulders tensed at the weight the world had put upon them.  
For some reason, he found himself standing still for a moment, waiting for Thorin to catch up.

Thorin glanced at him, asking without speaking, and Bilbo found himself staring at a new layer of Thorin he hadn't truly expected.

 _What do you think of when you see a skull?_ He asks.

Thorin blinks at him, surprised at the unexpected question. "Death." He answers. "Possibly how the creature died."

Bilbo dips his head once, a nod of understanding. _What else?_

"What else? Depends on the skull, I suppose." Thorin says. "The manner of it's death."

Bilbo nods. _Reasonable._ He says. _But you don't think of what was once the creature, instead of what is now a skull._

Thorin nods, looking around thoughtfully. "And how does that relate to those who are alive? Not just objects."

Bilbo hums in thought. _Do you mean just anyone, or yourself?_

Thorin has the decency to look a little flustered, and he scowls in a way that isn't at all irritating.

Bilbo huffs a little, amused, and nudges Thorin with his nose a little. He is a little shocked when Thorin lifts his hand to place it on Bilbo's shoulder again, almost as if it were instinct. It feels rather pleasant, actually. 

_Your shoulders look tense when you walk._ Bilbo says. _Like they're heavy. You don't smile, and you aren't all too reassuring when you speak, and yet the entire company follows you. You speak as if the world is at your beck and call, and it's not something you realise - it's natural. Therefore, you must have some sort of social standing._

Thorin looks at him, vaguely impressed. "And you got all that just from the way I walk?"

_More or less._

"That's..." Thorin shook his head. He didn't have a word for what it was.

 _It's muscle memory._ Bilbo says. _It all comes down to the memories you've collected, how they affect you now, how they will affect you later. Figure that out, and the rest is easy._

"I don't think anyone could do it." Thorin says. "Anyone but a Hobbit."

_I think you could._

"I find that difficult to believe. My eyes aren't trained like yours."

 _No, they are not._ Bilbo agrees. _But that does not mean they are not trained at all. You're a King, are you not? I'm sure there are things you see that I do not._

Thorin snorts. "Like what?"

Bilbo smiles faintly. _The value of gold._ He says. He feels satisfied when Thorin startles - he'd hit the nail on the head. _A King can see the best in someone, too - but that's easy. What makes a King different is that he can also see the worst in a person, without ever needing to know them. You can see that, I'm sure of it._

"I don't think I'll ever know how you see that." Thorin says, stroking his hand down Bilbo's back a little.

_It's not as great a talent as it sounds._

Thorin doesn't say anything to that, but his silence is prompting.

Bilbo takes a long time to answer. _There are many things that are reminders of death._ He says. _The things I see... They're nothing but precious memories of things that no longer exist._

Thorin's hand is oddly comforting as he strokes Bilbo's shoulder. "Death is inevitable." He says, and Bilbo agrees, but it still sends an odd pang through his chest. "But it's not always a sad thing."

And just like that, the pang was gone. Bilbo smiled sadly nevertheless, and pressed his nose to Thorin's forehead for a moment. _That's why you'll be a great King._

Maybe he would go on the journey, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this was longer than expected, but I rather like the melancholic feel of this~ It's pleasing, if a little difficult, to write~


	11. The Ghost In Your Chest Is Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's terribly addicting, that pain. He ached for it, sometimes, just to feel what it was like again.

Sometimes, people meet for the strangest of reasons. Bilbo never really thought that things like chance meetings happened on accident, but he didn't believe in coincidences either. Things happened for a reason, even if that reason was cruel, or misshapen, or painful. 

Sometimes, people met a person who was like a fresh breathe of air.

Thorin was like that, to Bilbo.

He was... to Bilbo, he was...

It was as difficult for Bilbo to understand as it was to explain. 

Thorin was a man with bones like iron and a heart of melted gold, ready to spill over and cover everything it touched. His shoulders sagged at the weight of something neither of them could put a name or face to, but he was a rare kind of person. He'd died, once before, without ever really dying, and had somehow learned to live and breathe once more. 

_"I've messed up." ___

__He said it often enough, with tears in his eyes and fists curled and pressed to his face, but he never really had. He was just painting a portrait of himself, building up layers and layers until he had something he could work with, and its going to be a masterpiece, Bilbo is sure - because Thorin will figure it out, he always does._ _

__The two of them, they act like they're in their own little world. That's how it feels, like the world has stopped and it's just them, lingering in a place they probably shouldn't linger, despite the woozy goodness it brings._ _

__Thorin may have not been the nicest person, but he didn't try to be. He was brave, and strong, and independent, but to Bilbo he was a flower that needed nourishing and warmth and a proper place to bloom. Thorin's roots had grown tight around Bilbo's heart, seeping between the bones of his ribcage and through his arteries to squeeze the constantly beating muscle that shouted "I'm breathing"._ _

__It hurt, sometimes. Hurt like the pain a person felt when they cried so hard their breathes became forced, hurt like waking up from a warm dream and for a brief, fleeting moment realising that the dream isn't real anymore._ _

__It's terribly addicting, that pain. He ached for it, sometimes, just to feel what it was like again._ _

__Because when he hurt like that, Thorin's pain was relieved. Thorin was a person who strove for what was for the best of the group, putting himself last, but Bilbo wasn't. Bilbo put himself first, selfishly so, and when Thorin slipped into a place in his heart he hadn't known was vacant, Thorin took up a place of priority._ _

__He was something Bilbo hadn't seen in this world, something Bilbo hadn't felt since his parents died and he was left all alone in a house that wasn't quite a home, with vacant rooms and dust-covered beds and a quietness that terrified him down to the very core. Thorin was just... an overwhelming force of life that drew Bilbo in like a moth to a flame._ _

__He was honest, when he didn't have to be._ _

__And Bilbo was terrified that one day, Thorin would move forward a step, leave their little lives when Bilbo wasn't ready to walk. Like he couldn't save a little part of Thorin as he was now, steadfast and affectionately curious._ _

__Thorin was worth dying for, so Bilbo died for him._ _

__It wasn't something that he planned, but the pale creature that haunted Thorin like the ghost it was had fallen too, unable to withstand any part of the entity that was Thorin, even if that part of him was the infinitely small amount that Bilbo held close in his hands and his heart and his head._ _

__And so Bilbo died, curled up on his side on a frozen wasteland where no one would find him for hours, all alone. It was cold, devastatingly lonely, and for a brief moment, like waking up from a dream..._ _

__He wished he'd never met Thorin in the first place._ _


	12. Tea Time Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes him a while, but eventually Bilbo figures out what the Dwarves are up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kili/Fili/Bilbo/Thorin implied~ ^^

The first time Bilbo noticed any sort of affection between the Dwarves was after the Thunder Battle.

Thorin had pulled Kili aside, pressed their foreheads together. Bilbo had seen it fleetingly, just out of the corner of his eyes - there was no mistaking the heavy pull of Thorin's shoulders, the way he released a shaky breath, the way Kili watched him with wide eyes that begged forgiveness and comfort.

He'd only ever seen that look when his father looked at his mother, and it sent a jolt of mixed nostalgia and longing through him like nothing he'd ever felt before.

After that, he noticed it a lot more often. He wouldn't say it was because he watched Thorin quite a fare bit, when the Dwarf wasn't aware of his gaze of course, but he was much more aware of it after the Thunder Battle.

Of course, the incident with the Goblin tunnels and the Pale Orc and the Eagles put a bit of a damper on things. It was only then that Bilbo really affirmed that he was on this journey, that he would put his all into helping the Dwarves. He told them that, too, because they deserved a home more than he wished to return to his own.

When things were quiet, like the time just after dinner and just before bed, it wasn't unusual for the Dwarves to stick to their little family groups. They were orientated around blood ties a lot more than Hobbits, and it left Bilbo feeling rather lonely. 

The Durin's were the most curious bunch. It was clear to Bilbo that Kili and Fili were exceptionally close. It was impossible to miss the way Fili looked out for Kili - he always set up Kili's bedroll, and brought him his food, and more than on one occasion Bilbo saw Fili running his fingers through Kili's hair and weaving in his braids.

He'd seen Thorin be affectionate, too. It was the type of affection that was subtle and reassuring and left Bilbo feeling as though he'd interrupted something utterly intimate.

It was after the Battle of the Fire Armies that Bilbo was left feeling rather anxious and frazzled. There was so much to do - Thorin, Fili and Kili were healing, and the Dwarves were trying to keep Erebor afloat until the King could return to his throne.

When word arrived that Thorin was awake, Bilbo was somewhat unnerved when the first thing Thorin did was call for him.

The Dwarf was sitting up in his bed, of which was startlingly big. He had bandages wrapped tight around his chest, and they looked clean enough. Bilbo felt a little flushed at the amount of bare skin he could see - the slope of Thorin's shoulders, the dip where his collarbones met his neck, a tantalizing glimpse of the vee of his hips that led further under the covers...

He was being ridiculous. 

"Thorin." Bilbo breathes, his heart light and fluttery in his chest. "Are you alright?"

Thorin watches him for a moment, his eyes dark and hazy with residual sleep. "I'm fine." He says. "I should be asking you that."

Bilbo feels a rather satisfying wave of relief at the sound of his voice - he sounded _alive._ "Nonsense." He waves a hand dismissively, and wanders over to gingerly sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm not the one who almost died."

Thorin's eyes drift up to his forehead, and almost instinctively Bilbo lifts a hand to touch the small bandage stuck over his healing wound. "You were injured."

"It's not... It's just bandaged to avoid infection." Bilbo says, shrugging his shoulders a little. 

Thorin pushes himself upright, wincing as he holds a hand to his stomach. Bilbo twitches, aching to help him, or make him to lay back, but he forcibly remains in his spot. "I... I want to apologise." He says quietly. "There are things I've done to you... I don't regret anything more."

Bilbo frowns at him a little. "It's not your fault." He says. "The Gold Sickness... I don't blame you."

"How can you not?" Thorin snaps.

Bilbo tentatively reaches forward to touch Thorin's hand. "I know... I know you wouldn't have done that, if you were you." Bilbo says. "I _know_ you wouldn't have."

Thorin's stares at him, eyes full of disbelief and something else that Bilbo just can't quite place. It was completely overwhelming.

The smile Bilbo offers is shaky at best. "I'll see you later, alright? I'm sure someone has something they're waiting for me to do."

Thorin doesn't say anything when he leaves, rushing from the room as fast as he dared.

 

It was late at night when Fili wandered into the sitting room where Bilbo was lounging around. Bilbo startled at the sound of the door opening, because most Dwarves had gone to bed already, and Fili was supposed to be resting.

"Sorry." Fili winces at his startled expression. "Am I interrupting...?"

"No, no, no, it's quite alright." Bilbo half shuts the book in his hands, smiling nervously. "Come in."

Fili shut the door behind him quietly and collapses into the chair across from Bilbo. He looked exhausted, and sighed terribly loud as he rubbed his eyes.

Bilbo was suddenly struck by how young Fili was - young in the eyes of Dwarves, barely into maturity. It was painful to think of the amount the poor thing had suffered, especially in recent times. "Are you alright?" Bilbo asks, eyes full of concern.

Fili glances at him for a moment, and offers a weak smile. "Just tired." He says.

"Why are you not in bed?"

"Can't sleep."

Bilbo felt his heart clench a little. He knew what that was like - he'd been just the same after his parent's death, stuck in a bad mental place where the longing for the suddenly empty space in a sore heart to be repaired drains a person's energy and keeps them up for hours, all night even. It was dreadful, and he felt a longing to soothe Fili's aches.

Knowing it wasn't his place, he instead pushes the tray of ginger biscuits on the table towards the Dwarf. "Have something to eat." He says. "Do you want some tea?"

Fili looks at him, eyes wide, and reaches forward to pick up a biscuit. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all." Bilbo gives him a smile that comes rather easily, and places his book down. 

He'd had the water boiling for a few minutes, anyway, and it was no trouble making a second cup for the Dwarven Prince. The smell of tea was rather calming, and Bilbo couldn't help but feel the tension in his shoulders ease away into something more bearable.

"It's chamomile." Bilbo says, offering him the cup. "It's good for calming down."

Fili forces a smile, and takes the cup. "Anyone else would have asked me why I can't sleep."

"Do you want to tell me?" Bilbo asks instead.

Fili watches him, that wide-eyed look back in place. He takes a sip of the tea, and sighs into the steam rising off of the water. "Just tired." He murmurs.

"I know the feeling." Bilbo sighs, relaxing back into the couch. He tips his head back, and stares at the ceiling for a while. "It'll get better, soon."

"How can you know...?"

Bilbo shrugs. "I don't." He admits. "But if I say it does, doesn't it seem like it will? My mother always told me that if you think something won't get better, then it won't. Whenever she told me it would be okay, I believed it, and it did."

Fili curls his legs up, looking oddly vulnerable as he frowns at his teacup. "I've never heard you talk about your parents." He says. "Do they live with you?"

"They died." Bilbo answers quietly. "A long time ago."

Fili jerks, and gives him an apologetic look.

"It's alright." Bilbo says soothingly. "I've moved on."

"H-how?" Fili suddenly asks. "How did you... how did it stop hurting?"

"It'll never stop hurting." Bilbo says. "But I realised that it hurts because I loved them. I was sad because the roles that they played in my life had become vacant, and I don't think there's anything that will ever fill that. Even though they weren't there, physically... I still love them, you know? I still remember the way my Father laughed, and how my mother would huff at the flowers that didn't grow fast enough... Just thinking about the way they looked at each other, it makes me think that everything will be alright in the end."

Fili nods, looking a little less upset now. "Thank you, Bilbo."

Bilbo blinks at him, puzzled. "You're welcome, I think." He says. "Have another biscuit."

Fili chuckles at him, but obediently picks up another.

Bilbo returns to his book, feel a little more light hearted. He doesn't say anything when Fili drifts off into sleep, slouched against the arm of the couch, but he takes the teacup from the Dwarf's hands and places a pillow beneath his head.

He stays there for most of the night, watching over Fili, wondering why he felt like he did. 

 

Kili was the first of the Durin's to actively be up and about. 

Bilbo didn't expect Kili to come search him out, but when he did, he certainly didn't refuse Kili's company. Of course, having the Dwarf hanging onto his every word was a little distracting when he was trying to work, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"How's your head?" Kili asks, lifting a hand to gently touch the place where Bilbo had been injured.

Bilbo waved away his concern, feeling a little flustered. "It was hardly a scratch, it hasn't even scarred." He says. "I should be asking after you."

"I'm all fine now." Kili grins, taking a stack of books from Bilbo and heaving them onto the shelf he just couldn't quite reach. "Not even a bit of pain!"

Bilbo snorts. "If you say so."

Kili pouts at him, reaching for his waist, and ignoring how Bilbo startles at his touch. "Everyone seems to _doubt_ me!" Kili whines. "Even you too?"

Bilbo laughs weakly, turning his red face away. Kili was too close, it was entirely too distracting. "Well, I can't help but worry."

"How sweet of you." Kili presses his nose into Bilbo's hair, almost as if he didn't realise what he was doing. "I'm really okay, though. I promise."

Even if Bilbo was vaguely uncomfortable with the way Kili was holding him - because he certainly only held Fili and Thorin this way - it sent a noticeable feeling of relief through him to hear that Kili was going to be alright.

"Well, if you're going to bother me," Bilbo says, smiling a little cheekily, "Then I may as well put you to work."

If the pained whine Kili directed at him made him flushed and tingly, he certainly wouldn't admit it.

 

By the time Thorin was ready to take the throne again, most Dwarves assumed Bilbo was going to be staying in Erebor. It had come up briefly in a conversation with Balin, and Gandalf too when he was around, but Bilbo felt no need to return to the Shire, at least not permanently.

He almost expected Thorin to address him over it, because a Hobbit living in a mountain with Dwarves was a bit of an oddity, but the Dwarf seemed almost _pleased_ with himself when he heard Bilbo was most likely staying.

Besides, Bilbo was sure Bag-End would seem too quiet without the company of Dwarves he had become so used to.

Either way, he was a little shocked when Thorin approached him one day, not to talk but rather to give him a little golden trinket.

It was endearing, really, and Bilbo had accepted it. The little button fit perfectly into his waistcoat, and the little acorn carved into it made him smile so hard his cheeks hurt.

Of course, it seemed a little stranger when Kili bounded up to him the same day, asked about the button, then bashfully gave Bilbo another one before disappearing back down the corridor.

It was strange behaviour certainly, but Bilbo didn't know much about Dwarven etiquette.

He tried to question Ori, but the scribe was so flustered by the mention of gifts that he vanished into the library before Bilbo could finish his sentence.

When Fili approached, Bilbo was hardly surprised to receive yet another perfect little button, and an invitation for tea again. He accepted, of course, because Fili made pleasant company, and he really seemed to enjoy Bilbo's tea.

"Where do you find these brews?" Fili asks as he holds the teacup delicately.

"Actually, I've been growing them." Bilbo answers, smiling proudly. "Oin helped me source an area of fertile soil - this mountain is covered in it, on the outside! - and I've been growing many things quite successfully. Just you wait, I'll have the best tomatoes that you've ever tasted grown!"

Fili smiled, laughing a little. "I'm sure you will."

"Mine were award winning, you know." Bilbo continues, placing down a tray of scones for Fili to pick at. "Four years in a row. My carrots, not so much... But they still taste nice. You should have seen the Gamgee's orange tree, it was marvellous. Mr Gamgee was always giving me oranges." He smiles a little. 

"Do you miss it?" Fili asks quietly. "The Shire, your home."

"Of course I do." Bilbo says. "I'd like to return, maybe next spring. But I'd miss this company more if I ever chose to leave permanently. I do hope you don't get sick of my company any time soon."

Fili looked at him, almost a little relieved. "I don't think that's possible, Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled, a little lost at Fili's suddenly joyous tone. "Well, I sure hope not. Gardening can be quite a dreary topic, after a while. I don't suppose Dwarves are all too interested in the literary works, either."

"I don't mind listening."

Bilbo flushes a little. It was nice to hear that. "The chamomile is growing well." He says after a silent moment. "I'll have more soon."

"I can't wait." Fili grins.

 

Over the course of a month, Bilbo started to notice a pattern occurring. Thorin would give him something, then so would Fili and Kili, in no particular order. At first, he thought it was maybe in thanks, but he got the feeling that it was more than that.

Either way, he treasured what he was given. He'd sewn the buttons onto his best waist coat. Thorin have gifted him a beautiful hair pin, and the Princes had given him matching beads for braids his hair was just a little too short for. He'd been given food on several occasions, too, and it wasn't uncommon for Bilbo to arrive at the dinner table with a plate already waiting for him, courtesy of one of the Durin's.

Of course, considering he spent most of the day in the library, he was bound to come across a book detailing Dwarven traditions. And he was extremely curious - he hardly realised he'd flipped it open and started reading before he was halfway through.

Dwarven traditions were lengthy, but easy to comprehend after reading it over a few times.

He wasn't completely sure, because reading something and experiencing something are completely different, but he thought that maybe Thorin, Kili and Fili were _courting_ him. 

Of course, he spent another day contemplating that idea and trying not to groan too loudly into his pillow. Every time he thought of it, he just got more and more flustered. His stomach was in knots by the next day, but he'd made a decision.

Possibly.

Well, he was going to return a thoughtful gift. Dwarven traditions stated that the courting gifts given were handmade, and most often forged. Hobbits preferred to give flowers or something grown, but he supposed both were technically made by hand. He had a little trouble deciding what exactly to give, but he thought he had a good idea.

Of course, if he had completely misinterpreted their interest in him, he could just say it was returning a gift for a gift - that's what Hobbits generally did. 

It took him the better part of the day to made the gifts presentable, but when he had three little parcels all ready to go, he felt rather pleased with himself. 

Thorin was the easiest to find - Bilbo didn't even need to search him out, they'd made a little appointment for tea that afternoon. Bilbo had everything ready to go, as he usually did. Thorin arrived as soon as Bilbo had finished pouring the hot water into the teacups.

Their conversation was pleasant. Bilbo always asked about Thorin's day, and listened with interest as he spoke of political conquests over the Elves and the way the repairing of Erebor's halls was progressing. 

Dwalin came unexpectedly in search of Thorin, eager to fix up a problem that had suddenly arisen. Thorin had looked rather displeased, but Dwalin had only rolled his eyes in a knowing way and told him to hurry up. 

"Here." Thorin held out a hand, palm facing up, to show off a small, golden earring that Bilbo assumed clipped to the top of an ear (he'd seen other Dwarves wear something similar, but never something so pretty, so expertly made).

He accepted the gift with a small, bashful smile, and kept a hold of Thorin's wrist before he could draw it away.

Thorin's confused frown made his stomach twist nervously, but he dug into his pockets anyway, and pulled out a small sachet that he'd sewn the night before. Thorin's name was sewn into the corner with Bilbo's neatest embroidery cursive, so that it could be used as a handkerchief after the tea leaves inside of it had been all used up.

Thorin's eyes were wide as he stared at the small gift perched in his hand. Bilbo dropped his hands, trying to keep up his smile, and wondered exactly where to go from now.

He was almost thankful that Dwalin impatiently tore Thorin from the room before Thorin could figure out what to say, even though the Dwarven King looked extremely irritated at his friend's actions.

Bilbo let out a shaky sigh, pressing a hand to his chest. 

_One down, two to go._

 

Fili was lounging around in a sitting room when Bilbo found him. Bilbo knew he was scheduled to go to the training grounds in a few minutes, but he wanted to slip in and give him his gift before he was too tired to respond.

"Ah, Bilbo." Fili straightened, looking up at him with a grin. "I have something for you."

Bilbo wasn't too surprised when Fili pressed an earring similar to the one Thorin gave him into his palm. He was always surprised, however, at how perfect the things the Dwarves crafted always looked. There was so much beauty in something so small that it was always astounding to him. 

Like before, when Fili began to draw his hand away, Bilbo nervously took a tighter grip on it and handed him his own little gift, one to match Thorin's (in a different colour, with his own name sewn in, of course). 

Fili's eyes were just as wide as his Uncle's, as he drew the sachet closer to him. He didn't seem to know what to say, either, and Bilbo felt a little satisfaction at finally being on the other end of that stick.

He was also rather relived that someone came to fetch Fili before he could reply, which gave Bilbo the chance to slip out of the room and collect his wits again.

Honestly, it was ridiculous that someone could still look so heart wrenchingly attractive when they were taken by surprise.

 

Bilbo was a little frustrated when he couldn't find Kili. He wanted to gift all three of them in the same day, like they did for him, though being unable to find Kili also meant that Kili was unable to find him in return. 

As it turned out, the Dwarven Prince found him first anyway.

"Hello, there." Kili grins as he drapes himself across Bilbo's back. "Nice to see you, Bilbo."

Bilbo's nose crinkled. "You're drenched in sweat." He said, though there was no bite in his words. "Training?"

"All day." Kili sighs, pressing his nose into Bilbo's hair. Bilbo had noticed it was something he did without really realising what he was doing. "I have something for you."

Bilbo chuckled to himself. The brothers were so alike, it was extraordinary to witness. Kili offered him another earring, more like Fili's than Thorin's, and gave Bilbo a spectacular grin when he took it with gentle hands.

"I think I need a bath." Kili hums thoughtfully as he draws away.

"Ah, wait." Bilbo riffles in his pockets, and pulls out his gift for Kili, handing it over without anything but another nervous smile. 

Kili stares at him, looking more lost for words than Bilbo has ever seen. 

Bilbo, feeling restlessly nervous, bids him goodbye and runs off before Kili can realise exactly what has happened.

 

Bilbo was not afraid to admit that he spent the evening hiding in one of the sitting rooms, curled up on the lounge in front of the fireplace with a book he just couldn't quite focus on. He still felt extremely embarrassed, and was already thinking of what to say if the Dwarves were uncomfortable with his approaches.

Of course, the doubts that swirled around his head only made his embarrassment worse.

Eventually he drifted off, without even meaning to. 

It was Kili that tempted him back towards consciousness. Bilbo didn't even realise that the Durin's had found him until he blinked open his eyes and found himself practically nose-to-nose with an eager-looking Kili.

"Hello, there." He repeats with a cheeky grin.

Bilbo makes a sleepy noise, and murmurs a quiet "thank you" when Fili touches a hand to his waist to help him sit upright. 

Kili just continues grinning, looking as though someone had given him the world. He learns forwards, following Bilbo, until he's half sprawled across the couch and pressing his cheek to Bilbo's rather affectionately.

"Kili." Thorin says, and Bilbo can feel the puff of air that Kili huffs in frustration as he moves back. 

Thorin reaches a hand down, touches his fingers to the bottom of Bilbo's chin, tilting his head up. "Bilbo." He greets, expression calm and smooth. "Do you understand the meaning of your actions?"

"Yeah." Bilbo answers sleepily, nodding as he leans his head into Thorin's grip. "Read a book on it."

"Then you clearly understand what you've accepted." Thorin says carefully. "All three of us, not just one."

Bilbo nods again, trying to fight off a yawn, even though he is fully aware of what he is saying. "Yes."

"Then come to bed with us." Thorin says. "Just to sleep."

"That's why your bed is so big." Bilbo says, sleepily amazed, even as Thorin chuckles and reaches past his nephews to firmly lift Bilbo into his arms.

"You're a strange little thing, Bilbo Baggins." Thorin says.

"And _you're_ a Dwarven King." Bilbo replies, resting his cheek against Thorin's chest. "I'm glad you're all okay... I've never said it, but I am."

Fili reaches over his Uncle's arm, unable to help himself, and tightly grips one of Bilbo's hands. "I'll never understand how we're lucky enough to have your favour."

"'S not that difficult, really." Bilbo answers around a yawn. "I've never met anyone so- _so-"_ Bilbo shook his head gently. "I can't think of a word for it."

Kili laughs. "You're so sleepy!" He coos, making Bilbo frown a little. "It's adorable."

Fili grins in agreement, squeezing Bilbo's hand.

When they arrive at Thorin's room, Bilbo is mostly aware of being placed down on the softest bed he'd ever felt. He'd moaned in appreciation, turning his face into the pillows that smelled distinctly of Thorin, and all but melted into the sheets.

"Get changed." Thorin told his nephews. "Then join us."

Bilbo feels more so than he sees Thorin slide under the sheets beside him, after he'd shed his outer clothes and was wearing nothing but loose fitting pants. It made Bilbo turn red to see that much skin.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asks him quietly, tentatively pressing a hand to Bilbo's waist.

Bilbo nods, peering at Thorin and hoping his cheeks aren't too red. 

Thorin smiles, looking devastatingly handsome, and gently pulls Bilbo closer. The warmth of his skin is intoxicating. "Your gift is wonderful."

"I haven't sewn in a while." Bilbo says quietly. "I'm glad you like it."

"It was very thoughtful." Thorin praises, pressing a small kiss to Bilbo's forehead. 

"I'm not sure where to go from here..." Bilbo admits quietly. "I've never..."

Thorin rubs his side comfortingly. "It's alright." Thorin says. "I'll guide you."

Bilbo smiles, heart racing in an achingly good way. He hadn't felt so at home in a long time.

"What are you whispering about?" Kili demands as he tumbles into bed right behind Bilbo. He hardly wastes a second before sticking himself to Bilbo's back, an arm wrapped tight around him to squeeze into the space between Bilbo and Thorin.

"Go to sleep, Kili." Thorin says, shifting his hand to caress Kili's cheek for a moment.

Kili huffs, but settles in surprisingly quickly, but only after pressing a wet kiss to Bilbo's neck that has him squirming. 

Fili slips in behind his brother, cuddling up tight. Bilbo feels a sense of completeness when all three of them are curled up together so tightly. It's fulfilling, and when Fili almost nervously shifts a hand across his brother to gingerly touch Bilbo's side, as if he were afraid it would be too much, Bilbo doesn't hesitate in gripping it tightly and murmuring a quiet "goodnight" that is affectionately returned by everyone.

It was quiet for a long time, and Bilbo was sure that everyone had drifted off to sleep, but a gentle kiss to his forehead from Thorin told him otherwise.

"Goodnight, Bilbo." He murmurs one last time.

Bilbo hums sleepily, pressing into Thorin's chest a little tighter. "Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, :3!
> 
> ((omg this is ridiculously long, and so the editing is subpar at best! Excuse any mistakes ^___T))


	13. Chaperone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin volunteer to chaperone the school camp for their nephews.

When Bilbo volunteered to help chaperone Frodo's overnight trip for school, he didn't expect the only other parent to volunteer would be Mr Oakenshield.

Thorin was a handsome man. He was tall, with stunning eyes and strong facial features. Bilbo thought they shared a lot in common - they both looked after nephews, and were actively involved in their school lives... He'd had coffee with Thorin once, and at meetings they always sat together, even if they didn't talk much.

Still, after bundling Frodo into the cabins with his friends (including Kili, of course, because they got on rather well even without Fili's gentle encouraging), Bilbo suddenly realised that he'd be sharing his room with Thorin. Of course, he spent at least five minutes panicking - because what happened when he needed to get _changed?_ And his pyjama's weren't exactly _attractive._

"So I guess we share this room?" Bilbo smiles nervously as he and Thorin stand in front of the door leading to their cabin. It wasn't far off from the children's ones, but far enough to give them a bit of quiet. The teachers had their own one, just a little ways away.

Thorin nods, slipping the key into the lock. 

The room inside was decent enough. There were two beds with mediocre sheets, and a little bathroom off to the side that had a shower, toilet and sink in good condition. There was a small television standing on a small entertainment unit, and a little area around a bend that had vinyl floors and what could possibly be considered a kitchen (though it was more like a cupboard, sink, kettle and microwave).

Bilbo pulled his small suitcase up onto one of the beds, and stretched leisurely. 

"What's in all those bags?" Thorin asks, gesturing to the bags Bilbo had carried in with him. 

"Ah, I brought food for the kids." Bilbo says with a little grin. "For the fire, tonight. Chocolate and marshmallows, and other lollies."

Thorin smiles a little. "That's nice of you."

Bilbo shrugged. "Isn't that what chaperones do?"

 

"Thorin, I don't want to do it."

"Won't you try?" Thorin was trying really hard not to laugh, and even though Bilbo knew he was embarrassing himself in front of the kids, he couldn't stop trembling.

"Thorin, it's _thirteen meters_ to the ground."

"Bilbo, it's abseiling." Thorin adjusted his grip on the rope he held behind his back, shifted edgily on the flat surface of the wooden wall. "You just watched Frodo and Sam do it. It's perfectly safe."

"Uncle, you can do it!" Frodo cries.

Bilbo shivers. "I hate heights - no, actually, I don't mind heights. I hate knowing I could _fall to my death."_

Thorin snorts at him, trying to hide his laughter in his shoulder. "One step at a time, okay?"

Bilbo swallows, and nods. "Okay, okay."

"Just lean back." Thorin says, demonstrating as he talks. "And don't bend your knees. The ropes will support you."

Bilbo's knees shook as he leaned back. He bit his lip, holding the ropes in his hands tightly. When he was leaning back at an appropriate angle, he carefully started taking steps back.

"I'm not doing the Leap-of-Faith." He tells Thorin as they slowly make their way down the wall. "And I'm not doing the Tree-Tops. And I'm not doing the Fan-Pole."

Thorin just laughs to himself, because he knew that Frodo and himself could rope Bilbo into doing it rather easily.

 

Of course, even though he said he wouldn't do it, Bilbo ended up doing it.

The Leap-of-Faith was ridiculous - jumping off a ten metre pole and reaching for a bar like some sort of trapeze artist. The Fan-Pole was worse - a fifteen metre climb up a pole where he just couldn't comfortably reach the rungs, and then jumping _straight off of it_ with only the fan-powered contraption at the top keeping him from going _splat_ in the sandpit.

He didn't mind the Tree-Tops - it was a series of obstacles in the trees, with ropes and clips and wooden planks. Thorin was right behind him the entire time, and Frodo was in front with Sam and Merry and Pippin and Kili, so it wasn't too bad. He rather enjoyed the conversations Thorin used to distract him.

In between the courses was morning tea and lunch, and now that the kids were seated for dinner, Thorin and Bilbo were able to return to their room. The fire wouldn't be started for at least an hour, and the kids were still under the care of the instructors, so they had time to relax.

"Ah." Bilbo sighed dramatically, falling to his bed. "I'm so tired, and it's only day one."

Thorin laughs. "You want first shower?"

"If you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

It didn't take long to shower - Bilbo felt uncomfortable with nothing but the flimsy curtain protecting his dignity, and the water wouldn't stay hot for long, so he was in and out within a few minutes.

He was towelling off his hair when he exited, after changing into more comfortable clothes for the remainder of the night. He made tea for both Thorin and himself, and they lounged around until they were needed for the night. 

 

It was pleasantly warm in front of the fire, where they lounged on logs and watched as the kids dropped off to bed in groups. 

"Uncle Bilbo." Frodo murmured as he sleepily wandered over, pressing into Bilbo's side for a brief hug. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Frodo." Bilbo chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to his nephew's forehead. "Tell your friends I said goodnight, yeah? I promised Miss Gamgee I'd look after Sam. Tell Kili to sleep, too."

Frodo nods, and wanders off after basking in Bilbo's attention for a little while longer. 

"They look like they've had fun." Thorin says off-headedly, taking a sip of the somewhat weak hot chocolate the camp had provided.

Bilbo nods in agreement. "I think I'm running out of room on the camera." He laughs.

Thorin chuckles. "It's fun, though. For us, too."

"I did not enjoy abseiling."

"You totally did." Thorin grinned. It was a grin that was like the sun.

Bilbo was instantly flushed, and hoped Thorin would think it was because of the heat of the fire. "Maybe a little."

"What's on tomorrow, again?"

Bilbo dug around until he found the program the school had given him. "Well, after breakfast our group is going to the Commando Course - is that the mud one? I think it's the mud one, because there's an hour gap in between that and morning tea."

Thorin groans. "Kili's hair..."

"I'm not participating in that." Bilbo cringes.

"Neither am I." Thorin nods. "I have a feeling I'm going to be carrying many pairs of shoes back."

Bilbo chuckles. "After morning tea is the hike up to the lookout, where they'll spend half-an-hour, and then it's another ten minute walk to the Giant Swing."

Thorin grins. "Sounds like fun."

Bilbo cringes. "Yeah, fun."

 

"Thorin this is not fun!" Bilbo says, gripping Thorin's arm tightly as their harnesses are securely clipped into the Giant Swing and they're hefted upwards. "Can't we stop here?"

"Might as well go all the way up." Thorin grins. "Now that we're here."

Bilbo let out a very unmanly keening noise, gripping Thorin's arm tightly. "Oh my god the ground is so far away - fifteen meters! We're going to fall into that concrete square platform and be the newest attraction, Thorin!"

Thorin laughs and pries Bilbo's fingers off his arm to instead hold them in his own. "Just calm down, Bilbo. You're in complete control of when the swing let's go, right? Just take a moment before pulling the string."

Bilbo huffs, anxiously drawing his knees up as far as he comfortably could. "I swear I'm going to get harness burn."

Thorin laughs. "Aren't we all."

"Ready to go, Uncle?" Frodo shouts from his place on the rope below. All the kids in their group were holding onto it tightly - it was what kept them upright, until Bilbo was ready to set the swing in motion.

"Y-yeah!" Bilbo calls back down, because he couldn't embarrass himself in front of his nephew, that'd be embarrassing for Frodo, too.

"It's just a bit of fun, yeah?" Thorin squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Just like when the kids did it."

Bilbo nods, his heart hammering. The kids had been fine doing it, and looked like they had had a lot of fun. "Okay... just pull the string, right? I just need to pull it."

Thorin nods.

Bilbo reaches for it, holding the tag tightly. "Just like ripping off a band aid."

"Just like ripping off a band aid." Thorin agrees.

Bilbo yanked on it hard, and the swing shot off. His stomach dropped as they plummeted down, only to be swung back up in the imitation of a swing set at any normal part. It was ridiculous, but it was also _exhilarating._

 

Bilbo was exhausted by the time he fell into bed that night. He curled up around his pillow, and only let out a pitiful whine when Thorin passed him a cup of tea.

"I'm kind of glad we're going home tomorrow." Bilbo says, turning his face to watch as Thorin reclined back against his pillows. "I miss my bed."

Thorin laughs. "I'd have to agree." He says. "It's been fun though, hasn't it?"

Bilbo nods, smiling sleepily. "It has."

"Want to get together some time?" Thorin asks after a moment. "I mean, like... like a date."

Bilbo flushes furiously, but nods. "Yeah..."

Thorin grins, that stunning, ridiculously attractive grin, making Bilbo turn his face into his pillow to stifle a groan.

_Did Thorin not know what that grin did to him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly based off of what I've experienced at school camps~


	14. Mutual Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just wanted to feel like he belonged.

Bilbo had always thought that he was... broken, of sorts. He wasn't like the other Hobbits in the Shire, and that didn't change as he got older like he was told it would.

His mother always said there was nothing wrong with him, and that it was fine to feel the way he did, and his father always agreed.

Everyone else - not so much.

Either way, Bilbo was rather surprised to find that there were many Dwarves who felt the same way as him.

"You mean... you mean it's normal?" Bilbo asked, eyes desperately wide as he stared up at Thorin. He ached for confirmation, for someone to tell him that it really was okay, and that he wasn't broken. That there would be no "late-blooming" for him, because he didn't need to bloom at all - he was already flowering. He just wanted to feel like he belonged.

"Of course it is." Thorin says, voice full of confidence and solidarity. There was nothing about him that said he was being dishonest.

Nothing at all.

Bilbo eyes fill with burning tears. He bites his lip, trying to stop it from quivering. "Really?"

Thorin startles at his sudden outburst of emotion, and tentatively takes Bilbo's hands in his own. "Of course it is." He repeats. "Bilbo, there is absolutely nothing abnormal about feeling no sexual attraction to anyone. It's common enough."

"Not in the Shire." Bilbo laughs weakly, forcing a smile. "I just... I didn't know, and now..."

Thorin pulled Bilbo into an embrace. It was oddly comforting, and for the first time in a long time, Bilbo felt no pressure to have it progress any further than affection. "It is said that Mahal crafted us from stone, and that some Dwarves remain like stone under certain situations." Thorin says, a warm hand rubbing Bilbo's back affectionately as Bilbo continued to sniffle and tremble. "It's not so uncommon to see Dwarves remaining like stone in sexual situations. It's completely normal, Bilbo. You told me that Yavanna doesn't make mistakes, did you not?"

Bilbo nods his head, but doesn't move out of Thorin's embrace. He'd missed the contact. "What do... what do they do, then?"

Thorin hums thoughtfully. "Well, a relationship with someone who has sexual urges isn't impossible." He says. "So long as the person realises that it can't be returned. Other times we seek out people like ourselves, with no urges, and have a relationship with them. Marriage is still possible, you know."

Bilbo laughs a little. "I suppose you're right." He says. "But what about children?"

"Well, it really depends on the couple." Thorin says. "I have Fili and Kili, so at the moment, I have no desire for biological children. If I ever wanted them... well, I'd have to figure it out then."

Bilbo nods. "Thank you." He whispers. 

"It's not a problem." Thorin answers quietly, pressing a tender kiss to Bilbo's forehead. Bilbo felt warm and contented, more so than he had in a very long time, safe in the knowledge that there was no need for their relationship to progress past anything more than mutual affection for now.

"Come along, now." Thorin says, taking Bilbo by the waist with a small, reassuring smile. "I quite think it's time for dinner, don't you?"


	15. Leaving Labels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's relationship with Thorin didn't need a label.

"The skirt is short on purpose."

Thorin side-eyes him, hands stuffed in his pockets as he slouches against the wooden bench. "How can you tell?"

Bilbo smooths down the wrinkles in his sweater vest. "Because she didn't hold the back down when she walked up the stairs." He says.

Thorin hums contemplatively. "But who's she showing off for?"

"Anyone." Bilbo shrugs. "Herself, maybe."

"Showing off for herself?" Thorin looks at him doubtfully.

"If she's confident enough." Bilbo replies. "Maybe she just bought the wrong size. Maybe she likes the skirt." He shrugs again. "Who knows? It's fun to guess."

Thorin nods, almost solemnly, though he looks rather contented.

Bilbo had been friends with Thorin for a long time, even though they were so completely different from one another. Their friends didn't really interact, and if they made an assumption about Thorin and Bilbo that was in any way negative, then they were no longer a friend. That'd happened a few times in the past, but Bilbo was adamant. If they couldn't tolerate his relationship with Thorin (whatever it was) then they couldn't be friends.

He was lucky to have the friends he did, however. Ori was sweet, and most definitely had a thing for Thorin's friend Dwalin, and Galion was a joyful person to be around, even though he was friends with Thranduil (who did not get along with Thorin at all).

"How's Ori?" Thorin asks. "Dwalin has a thing for him."

Bilbo nods. "Same on this end." He says. "Should we set them up?"

"I think they'll be together soon anyways." Thorin says. "Dwalin can't handle watching him without getting frustrated."

Bilbo chuckled. That meant Dwalin liked Ori - the brute wasn't too good with emotions, but Ori was, and Bilbo knew that Ori was patient enough to see right through Dwalin's shortcomings.

"What about him?" Thorin asks, gesturing towards a man walking past them.

Bilbo hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the man for a moment. "Well, the suit's for business." He states. "It's tailored - the slope of the shoulders is straight, and the length of the trousers is good. His cuffs are either a little short or a little long, but not enough to be noticeable. He probably has a really high position... CEO, maybe? Or a floor manager..."

Thorin snorts in amusement. "I'll never understand how you can tell so much about a person just from looking at their clothes."

"I'm a tailor's son." Bilbo says, raising a brow. "Did you expect anything less?"

Thorin chuckles, and slings an arm around Bilbo's shoulders.

Bilbo leans into him, glad for the warmth Thorin provides. "Think everyone will be here anytime soon?"

"Nope." Thorin answers, pulling Bilbo in a little closer so that he can rest most of his weight against him. 

Bilbo chuckles. Their friends were always notoriously late - or maybe they were always notoriously early. Bilbo didn't mind, because he got to spend more time with Thorin. It was always amusing to see people look at them in a rather confused manner, wondering why two people so different were seemingly so close.

"What about her?" Thorin asks, gesturing again.

It was easy to describe people from their clothes - Bilbo could generally tell if clothing had been altered, and if it fit right, or what they were dressed for. Thorin never tired of hearing him talk, either, even though Bilbo thought it to be quite boring.

Halfway through, Bilbo paused to yawn. Even though it was chilly outside, Thorin's thick arm around him was making him drowsy with warmth.

"Want to just head off?" Thorin asks quietly, watching Bilbo with attentive eyes. 

"Sure." Bilbo nods. He didn't often refuse Thorin, even though they'd be ditching their friends. 

Thorin stands, keeping an arm around Bilbo's waist as they wandered off. Bilbo sent a quick text to Ori, and chuckled at the reply he received a few moments later.

"Ori isn't surprised." He says, yawning again. "That we've wandered off."

Thorin shrugs, but he doesn't seem unpleased. "I like spending time with you." He says.

Bilbo smiles faintly, leaning into Thorin's side. "I know."

Thorin squeezes his waist gently. "Anywhere you want to go to specifically?"

It wasn't often that they found time to go to the city, but it was always nice when they did. "Not really." Bilbo answers. "Just want to spend time with you."

Thorin drops a kiss to his forehead, and they continue walking in a comfortable silence. 

They didn't really have a label for their relationship. It had been like this since they met - a subtle protectiveness that could devolve into possessiveness if need be, but was generally something quiet and permanent.

Bilbo didn't think their relationship needed a label. Whatever it was, it was perfectly fine.


	16. Wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's no way out of here." Bilbo says. "Not unless you can find the way you came in."

Bilbo knew storms well. Could hear the words that the wind and rain and thunder spoke, could tell when something had upset the natural balance of his island and brought on gale forces and disrupted the lull of the ocean. 

This time, the storm feels unsettled. Bilbo got the feeling that something was invading his territory, and wonders if some poor soul had been sucked into the Shire without realising. He wondered if winding up in Bag-End was a blessing, or a curse.

Either way, he was undeniably curious, and found himself standing at the edge of the forest where the sand met soil, waiting to see who would wander up. His wings, feathered and thick, fluttered behind him absently. He sort of wanted to just head home, to rest in front of his fireplace with a quilted blanket, but something told him to wait.

His patience eventually paid off when he spotted a figure stumbling over the sand.

It was a Dwarf, and for a moment, Bilbo was effortlessly puzzled. How on earth had a Dwarf washed up in Bag-End? It seemed like a very improbably thing, and yet there he was.

"How did you end up here?" Bilbo asks as he drift closer, feet just about the ground. 

The Dwarf startles at his voice, looking up sharply.

_Ah, I bet he doesn't even know what a Hobbit is..._

 

Turns out, he didn't.

The Dwarf's name was Thorin Oakenshield, and he'd gotten lost.

He thinks.

Bilbo sighs to himself. It was never a good idea to get _lost_ in the Shire. "There's no way out of here." Bilbo says. "Not unless you can find the way you came in."

Of course, Thorin hadn't been too pleased with that revelation. He didn't know where he came in, and was frustrated when Bilbo didn't either - there wasn't much he could do about that, though. Eventually, a way out would probably show itself. The magic that shrouded the Shire was just like that, there was no circling it.

It took a week for Thorin to recover from his minor injuries, and for him to adjust to the Shire's climate. The amount of magic in the air was dizzying at first, and it made Thorin a little ill, but Bilbo dutifully took care of him.

He was an interesting man, after all. Bilbo was intrigued. 

"I've never met a Dwarf." Bilbo tells Thorin when he was better, as he carries over two cups of tea. 

"I've never met a Hobbit." Thorin answers, somewhat dryly.

Bilbo grins. "I suppose you wouldn't have. There's really no need for us to leave a Shire."

"Have you ever spoke with anyone other than a Hobbit, then?" Thorin asks, taking a cautious sip of the tea. He drinks a larger sip, upon finding it satisfactory.

"A wizard, upon occasion." Bilbo answers, frowning in thought a little. "For some reason, they wander in and out of here rather easily... I used to search the wood for Elves when I was little, though."

"Elves?" Thorin asks, vaguely surprised.

"Yes." Bilbo nods. "Our woods tend to overlap, every now and then. One moment, you're on your way to see Mr Gamgee, and then next you're walking through Rivendell."

"This is an island." Thorin says with a puzzle frown.

"Yes, it is." Bilbo answers, eyebrows raised.

Thorin stares at him, but doesn't bother questioning the illogicality of Bilbo's words. Magic was just magic, there was no need to question it, lest one just confuse themselves. Bilbo didn't fully understand it himself, but he knew that if he were careful where he walked, he'd remain in the Shire.

"Where do you live, then?" Bilbo asks as he floats over to one of his many bookshelves to pull out a large map. "There's still places I've never heard of."

Thorin eyes the map with interest. It was a map he could read, even if there were places left unmarked. "The Lonely Mountain." He points towards the correct area, and seems a little taken back at Bilbo's eagerness to improve the map. "That's were Erebor is."

"Erebor." Bilbo repeats to himself, carefully writing out the name in his neatest script. "I know there's an Elven citadel near there - what do they call it, now?"

"Mirkwood."

Bilbo nods, hovering over the map as he critically stares at the blank spaces.

"What are you trying to work out?" Thorin asks.

"Where the Shire is." Bilbo answers. "I'm sure we lay between the Blue Mountains and Weather Hills."

Thorin stares at the map thoughtfully. "I've been to the Blue Mountains." He says. "There is a Dwarven city there. Never passed Weather Hills, but I've been to Bree." He points to a spot on that map. "That's a town here."

Bilbo nods, and fills it in. "Do you know what's in this space?" He gestures to an empty spot on the map, where nothing but the Baranduin River is vaguely marked out.

Thorin frowns. "Now that you mention it, I don't think there's anything there." He says. "There has to be something, I've crossed that river in my travels from Erebor to the Blue Mountains once or twice."

Bilbo's eyes gleam. "The Shire _must_ be there then!" He declares happily. "I _knew_ it!"

"But there's not space for islands." Thorin says.

"Of course not, though the Shire would still look like islands even if it were located on top of a mountain." Bilbo answers. "Magic and all that, very fickle business."

Thorin sighs, and downs his tea. "So I take it you've never left the Shire."

"Hardly ever leave Bag-End." Bilbo answers, distracted by the new information regarding his map. "Not since the Fell Winter."

"The Fell Winter?"

Bilbo pauses, and frowns a little. "Yes." He says slowly. "Though I doubt you would know what that is."

"Aye."

A moment of silence fills the room.

"What happened?" Thorin finally asks, unable to help himself.

"The Shire was attacked by Wolves and Orcs that crossed the frozen Baranduin." Bilbo answers, without looking up. "Many died, and those that didn't, died of starvation. If not for Gandalf and the Rangers of the North, there would be no Hobbits at all."

Thorin remains silent.

"My mother was killed. My father died not long after."

"I'm sorry."

Bilbo didn't say anything for a moment. "We Hobbits aren't much as fighters." Bilbo says. "No one here even owns, or owned, a blade other than kitchen knives. Even though we live with so much magic, we can't harness it, not like the Elves. There was no point in even fighting back."

Thorin can't meet his eyes. "A dragon attacked Erebor, once." He says.

Bilbo glances up, and sees the same hopeless feeling he got thinking of the Fell Winter in Thorin's eyes. 

"Tore right through the front gate, and burned everyone it saw. It left Erebor in ruins, and most Dwarves were too frightened to return."

"A dragon leaves darkness wherever it touches." Bilbo murmurs.

Thorin nods. "A sickness plagues my family, heightened by the dragon's presence in Erebor. We had to completely rebuild, after it was done destroying and pillaging the mountain. It even burned Dale, the human city outside the gates. No many people survived, and all homes were destroyed. Many Dwarves are still too frightened to return to Erebor, but..."

"But it's your home." Bilbo smiles faintly, his wings fluttering a little. 

Thorin nods. "Aye, it is. I'd do anything to allow my people to continue living in Erebor."

 

Eventually, Thorin settled in to the Shire quite well. He looked remarkably rested, and his skin started to tan from the prolonged hours he spent in the sun.

They got along well, after the first few weeks. Thorin was always quite startled by Bilbo's wings, and it amused Bilbo endlessly. Apparently, no other race had wings upon their backs like Hobbit's did. Bilbo found that rather difficult to comprehend, but it made him feel a little special.

"Your ears are like an Elf's, though." Thorin says, reaching a hand across the lounge they laid on to touch the point of Bilbo's ear. "But that's where your similarities end."

Bilbo chuckles, flushing at the sensation that shoots down his spine. "It's strange to think that no one has wings." He extends one of his own, shivers when Thorin touches it with a large, warm hand. "They make travel easier."

"I suppose they would." Thorin says. "To get to the other islands, right?"

Bilbo nods. "Yes, Hobbit feet are tough, but they aren't made for swimming."

Thorin chuckles. "I suppose not."

 

It was storming again, when Thorin first draws Bilbo closer, a hand cupping his cheek, the other pressed against the small of his back, to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

And if Bilbo whimpers quietly, all thoughts of storms leaving his mind as the two press closer, flushed and hot and panting, then neither of them mention it.

 

Time moves differently in the Shire, than it does outside of it. By the time Bilbo senses an opening, an exit, it's been over a year since Thorin arrived, but maybe no more than a handful of months back there.

"Come with me." Thorin says, his hands gripping Bilbo's tightly, terrified by the thought of leaving him behind. "Bring your maps, your waistcoats, your handkerchiefs... we can go on an adventure."

Bilbo feels dwarfed by all the possibilities that lay outside of Bag-End, outside of the Shire. He'd never left before. He didn't know if he could leave now.

"We'll visit the Elves." Thorin says. "We'll see Erebor, visit the citadels. Come back, if need be. You'll always be able to return here, I'm sure of it."

"How can you be sure? What if the entrance never shows itself?"

"It will." Thorin says solidly. "Your home is here - will always be here, even if you choose to leave. I'm certain."

Bilbo had a feeling Thorin was right, even if he was apprehensive. 

"If... if you truly wish to stay, I will too." Thorin says, gripping Bilbo's hands tightly. "I don't wish to leave you, Bilbo."

Somehow, hearing him say that so confidentially, it put Bilbo's heart at ease.

"Shall we go on the adventure now, or have some tea first?"

 

"Thorin..."

"Yes...?"

"I've forgotten my handkerchief, we have to turn back."


	17. Library Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo visits the library with Frodo three times a week. Thorin, the employee who works the late shifts, always greets them with a smile.

Bilbo carefully adjusted the umbrella above his head, keeping a tight grip on Frodo's hand as they made their way down the street. It was starting to drizzle, so most people had their umbrellas out anyway, but Bilbo was being extra careful not to let his toddler get wet.

Their favourite library was just around the corner. Frodo had been "reading" since he was able to sit up and actually focus on a book - he would grizzle and make cute little sounds and look up at Bilbo expectantly, and wouldn't stop grinning for hours when Bilbo would praise him and listen to him read the next page.

The library had kind of odd hours, but it was perfect for Bilbo's working hours. It meant that he and Frodo could spend every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night reading for hours after an early dinner.

Frodo's little intake of breath at the sight of the library windows made Bilbo smile. He almost bounced with excitement, looking straight up at Bilbo for confirmation. 

Bilbo laughed a little. "Yes, Frodo. We're going to the library."

Frodo giggled, more at Bilbo's tone than at his words. Frodo was still too young to really comprehend their routine, but seeing the soft, yellow lights streaming out from the windows of the library always made him excited. 

Like usual, the library was very quiet when they entered. Bilbo slipped the umbrella shut, and left it in the stand as they wandered over to the reception desk.

The employee was always the same. Bilbo had learned his name was Thorin Oakenshield - it was a nice, strong name, and reminded him of the heroes in Frodo's books. It didn't help that he was effortlessly handsome, and always smiled when Bilbo entered with Frodo in tow.

"Good afternoon." Thorin says as he notices them approaching.

Frodo giggled at Thorin, like he generally did - Bilbo thought it was the beard, because Frodo only giggled like that when the visited the library.

"Good afternoon." Bilbo says with a small smile. 

Thorin smiles back.

Bilbo leads Frodo to the little reading nook they always sat in. The space wasn't out of view or anything, but it had little chaise lounges and small shelves and beanbags - Frodo _loved_ the beanbags, and often got Bilbo to sit in one with him, instead of on the lounge.

Bilbo placed down his satchel, and pulled out the books that they'd borrowed earlier that week. Even if they couldn't come to the library every night, Bilbo and Frodo still loved to read together.

"Let's go return these." Bilbo says, handing Frodo one of the books to carry. "Then we can go pick out some more."

"Yeah!" Frodo grinned, holding the book tightly.

The returns' slot always amused Frodo. Bilbo had to lift him up a little, to reach it, but Frodo just loved to push the books through. 

After they'd returned their books, Bilbo led Frodo over to the children's section.

There were always a few books that Frodo picked out, every time they visited. _"Alice In Wonderland"_ was one, mostly because he adored the Cheshire Cat and the book had lovely illustrations, but Frodo's absolute favourite was _"An Unexpected Journey."_ It was a tale about a brave Dwarven Prince, and how he went on a journey to reclaim his lost home. Frodo adored the Prince, it was very endearing. 

Like always, Frodo went looking for those two books first. Of course, Bilbo found them easier than the little toddler did, but Frodo's excitement at seeing the familiar covers was still satisfying.

"This one, too." Frodo says carefully. His pronunciation was still a little garbled, but it was so adorable Bilbo couldn't help but grin as Frodo handed him another thin book to add to the pile in his arms. 

"How about this one, Frodo?" Bilbo asks, pulling a book with a duckling on the front cover to show the toddler. It was _"The Ugly Duckling",_ which was something his mother used to always read to him. Bilbo liked the stories that had a moral, and read them to Frodo as often as possible.

"Yeah!" Frodo nodded his assent, and after picking up that book too, they made their way back towards the nook.

 

Frodo was falling asleep in Bilbo's lap after an hour and a half of reading.

They'd read _"The Ugly Duckling_ first - Frodo had followed Bilbo's finger across the page, fumbling through pronunciations and squealing in joy when praised. It took a while, but only because Frodo was young. Bilbo enjoyed it nevertheless.

 _"Alice In Wonderland"_ was next. For Frodo, it was more about the illustrations than the words, though he enjoyed listening to Bilbo murmur the story to him. He really did like the Cheshire Cat, and it was heart-warming, even if Bilbo didn't quite understand why he was so enamoured with it.

 _"An Unexpected Journey"_ was always left for last. It was the only book that Frodo insisted the borrow every Friday, so that they could read it over the weekend.

Bilbo gathered the books in one arm, before carefully lifting Frodo onto his hip with the other. The toddler grizzled a little, pushing his cold nose against Bilbo's throat before settling.  
It was a little difficult, but Bilbo somehow managed to pick up his satchel, as well, and made his way towards the desk.

Thorin looked up as he approached, and smiled a little. "All finished for today?"

"Yeah." Bilbo answered. "Sorry for keeping you."

"It's alright." Thorin says. "My shift doesn't end for ten more minutes. Are you checking anything out?"

Bilbo nods, and hands him _"An Unexpected Journey"_ as well as the few other books they hadn't got around to reading tonight. 

"He really likes this book, huh?" Thorin chuckles as he scans _"An Unexpected Journey"_ and puts it aside.

Bilbo smiles bashfully. "It's his favourite."

"You two seem really close." Thorin observes. "It's nice to see someone so dedicated to reading actual books. I can't tell you how many times I see parents giving their young children technological devices..."

Bilbo nods in agreement. "I'm a writer, so I prefer books." He says. "Thankfully, Frodo does too. Maybe it's because I have so many around the house." He chuckles.

Thorin laughs quietly. "That's good to hear." He finishes scanning the books, and gestures to Bilbo's satchel. "Want some help?"

Bilbo gives him a relieved smile. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all." Thorin slips open the satchel and carefully places the books inside. "It looks like it's going to storm tonight."

Bilbo glances outside, and frowns a little. "I hope not." He says. "We're walking home..."

"How far away do you live?"

"Just a few blocks..."

Thorin blinks at him. "Me too."

Bilbo stares outside for a moment, patting Frodo on the back when he whines in his sleep quietly.

"Want to head home together...?" Thorin asks, sounding half nervous. "I think we can beat the rain, if we leave now."

 

Thorin had offered to carry his umbrella, which left Bilbo's hands free to hold onto Frodo. He made sure to wrap his jumper around Frodo's back and shoulders, to protect him from the light wind that was starting to pick up.

He chatted with Thorin rather comfortably, ignoring his unease at the darkening sky. He'd always gotten along with Thorin - he'd been visiting the library with Frodo for at least a year, now that Frodo was getting older.

A sudden gust of wind made Bilbo shiver. Small droplets of rain began to hit his skin, and before he could even ask Thorin to lift the umbrella he had already popped it open above them. Bilbo felt a little warm in the stomach when he realised Thorin had it primarily over himself and Frodo.

"There's only a block to go." Bilbo says with a worried frown, anxiously pulling his jumper tighter around Frodo even as he begins to shiver. 

Thorin nods, pressing a hand to the small of Bilbo's back to hurry him along. His palm was big and warm, and left Bilbo feeling a little flushed. He hadn't been this close with another person in a long time, even before he took in Frodo. 

The rain started coming down hardly a moment later. Bilbo winced in frustration as he bundled Frodo closer, anxious to get him indoors and out of the cold.

His back was partially wet, and so was half of Thorin, when his house firmly came into view.

"Come inside." He told Thorin, without any room for excuses, as he unlocked his front door and dove into the warmth of his home. 

Thorin tentatively stood in the doorway, dripping wet as he closed the umbrella.

"Come in, come in." Bilbo called over his shoulder as he kicked off his shoes. "I'm just going to put Frodo to bed."

It didn't take long for Bilbo to get Frodo settled in. He was a remarkably good sleeper, and as soon as Bilbo had changed him into his soft pyjamas and tucked him under his sheets, he didn't stir again. 

"Thank you for helping me." Bilbo says as he enters the kitchen, where Thorin was waiting, towels clutched in his hands. He passed them to Thorin, who took them with a gentle smile to dry off.

"It's okay." He says.

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

"If it's not too much trouble." Thorin answers.

It wasn't, so Bilbo made the tea, and the two of them sat at the kitchen table to talk. It was an easy conversation, about work and family and hobbies. Bilbo found himself more and more enamoured with Thorin, with the way he talked so passionately about the things he loved and the way his eyes were so expressive.

He was undeniably pleased when Thorin tentatively asked if he wanted to get together some time.

They exchanged numbers, and after Thorin assured him that he didn't need to be driven home because the rain had stopped and his house really wasn't all too far away, Thorin bid him goodbye and took his leave.

Bilbo was left with his back pressed against his front door, smiling like some love struck teenager.

It felt good to be socialising like this again. He eagerly awaited his next visit to the library, for a new, other reason now.


	18. Overfed Feline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin owns a cat that is rather noisy at night.

"Thorin."

"Hmm?"

"Your cat runs around the apartment at full speed every night at three in the morning." Bilbo says as he passes Thorin a steaming cup of tea. "Why?"

Thorin glances up at him, then at his cat, which lounged in the square of sunlight on the opposite couch, where it shouldn't have been sitting (but plaintively did, just to annoy the both of them).

"I have no idea." Thorin says, shaking his head as he manoeuvres the cup into one hand to wrap the other around Bilbo's waist. "It's getting to be a bit of a problem, huh?"

Bilbo sighs, sinking half into Thorin's lap as his insistence. "No, it's just..." Bilbo observed the cat warily. "How does he do it?"

Thorin laughs. "I have no idea."

 

Generally, having a cat in the apartment was fine. They were relatively clean animals, and after the first month Bilbo got over his allergies. The shedding was a bit of a problem, but the cat had fairly short fur, so it wasn't all that too difficult to deal with. 

The fact of the matter is that the cat is undeniably fat. It was round around the middle and had fairly stubby legs and when it laid on the floor, stretched out and lax from the warmth of the sun, it was more like a puddle of fur than a proper cat.

So when the cat had its mad moments at three in the morning, it was excessively _loud._

It bumped into the coffee table and slid on the tiles into walls and banged into their bedroom door every night like clockwork. Sometimes, it even _yowled._ Loudly. And as soon as it started, it wouldn't stop until one of them had gotten up to feed it.

Bilbo sighed as he placed down the bowl of food for the cat. It's dinner was somewhat late - Bilbo always hoped that it's belly would be full enough to put it to sleep for a few hours, but that never seemed to be the case. 

"Ready for bed, love?" Thorin asks from the doorway.

"Yes." Bilbo answers, padding over to his lover. The edges of his pyjama pants caught on his heels, but Thorin's arm around his waist was steadying. 

Thorin was a very affectionate person. It wasn't strange to have him press against Bilbo's back, or to have him reach for Bilbo's hand, or to have him pull Bilbo into his lap and just hold him there like a cuddly toy. It had taken Bilbo by surprise, because Thorin didn't really seem like the cuddling type, but Bilbo never rejected his touch.

Of course, his penchant for affection carried over to bed, as well.

Bilbo still had to brush his teeth, so he was last to crawl under the sheets after switching off the bedside lamp. 

Thorin reaches for him even before Bilbo had settled, wide hands clutching his waist to draw him closer. Thorin presses his face into Bilbo's hair, slinging a leg across Bilbo's own as he did so. His weight was a little heavy, but not overbearingly so, and it made Bilbo feel rather reassured to be pinned in such a way.

He sighs at Thorin lightly, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Thorin's hair. "Goodnight, Thorin."

"Night, Bilbo." Thorin says around a yawn, squeezing Bilbo's waist gently. "I love you."

Bilbo smiles faintly. He'd never tire of hearing that, never. "I love you too."

 

_Thud._

Bilbo groaned, reaching a hand behind his back to bat at Thorin. "Love, your _cat..."_

Thorin mumbles into the back of his neck. At some point during the night Bilbo had rolled over onto his stomach, and Thorin had migrated to lay, for the most part, right on top of him. Bilbo was sure that it was Thorin's thigh he could feel spreading his legs, and it was definitely Thorin's lips that brushed a light, slightly wet kiss across the back of his shoulders.

"Just ignore 'im." Thorin mumbles.

Another loud _thud_ and the sound of heavy feet racing down the hallway only to slam into the wall make Bilbo cringe.

Thorin shifts above him, burrowing his nose into Bilbo's hair as he lifts his head sleepily. "Want... want me to go feed him?" He asks around a yawn.

Bilbo shakes his head, settling back down. His arm ached from reaching behind his back, but he ran his hand up and down Thorin's bare waist anyway. "Let's just sleep, yeah?"

Thorin hums in reply, lowering his head again. He presses another kiss to the back of Bilbo's shoulder, shifts his legs a little more, and settles in for sleep again.

Although... "Thorin?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm putting that cat on a diet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still taking suggestions~ If you want to leave them here, or drop them at my [Tumblr](http://milkteamiku.tumblr.com/) that would be good~!
> 
> I'll say this here, though - I tend to only do the ones I like, because this is more for my leisure, and to improve my writing, than it is for profit or to simply fill requests (if that makes sense)~
> 
> If I don't do your request, it's generally because I either don't like it (like, it feels weird to write, maybe not to read, but to write) or because I get so much second-hand embarrassment that I sit there and stare at the request with my hands over my eyes (which has happened, just saying)~ So I apologize if I don't do your request, but I'll try to do as many as possible! We're only 138 days into the year, after all~


	19. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo smiles a little forlornly. "I wish Primula and Drogo could have seen Frodo grow up." He says. "I just know he's going to be a wonderful kid. He's a great sleeper, you know. Always on schedule, stops crying as soon as he's fed and cuddled."
> 
> Thorin chuckles. "Now that sounds good." He says. "Kili would scream for hours, for no reason. Just liked making noise, I think."

After Bilbo had adopted Frodo - who was just a baby, barely ten months old - he'd started seeing an adoptive parents support group. It was kind of awkward at first, but the more he listened to everyone else speak, the more he felt at ease.

Because of Frodo's age, things like sexual acting out, anxiety, depression and all the unsavoury things that came with puberty and changing hormone levels weren't an issue for Bilbo.

What he worried about was how Frodo would bond with Bilbo - he'd become used to Primula, to her shape and her voice and her scent. Bilbo worried that Frodo would experience separation anxiety, or that he'd feel upset and alone and his emotional development would be stunted. He also worried about Frodo's diet - Primula had been breastfeeding, and there was no possible way for Bilbo to emulate that, but Frodo seemed to have taken well to formulas...

Still, the support group helped. It was nice to hear solutions to problems he would have otherwise never noticed, and the group helped him ease both himself and baby Frodo into their new living arrangements.

It wasn't strange for the group to get regular new visitors. It wasn't exclusively to adoptive parents - it was for new parents, who had taken in a child that may not have been biologically their own. Frodo was Bilbo's nephew, after all, and not a child from an adoptive agency. 

Bilbo had seen the man - Thorin, his name was - several times at the support group. He'd been there before Bilbo, so technically Bilbo was the new member. 

Thorin was looking after his two nephews, Kili and Fili. He didn't seem to enjoy the meetings, but whenever they spoke, Thorin never seemed discouraged.

"You know," Thorin says to him one day as Bilbo cradles a slumbering Frodo and Thorin's nephews play on the swing set under their Uncle's keen eyes, "I hated those meetings until you came along."

Bilbo laughs quietly. "Is that so?"

Thorin offers him a small grin as he relaxes against the park bench. "Yes." He confirms. "Absolutely dreaded it."

"And why is that?" Bilbo asks curiously as he adjusts the blanket swaddled around Frodo, keeping off the ever so slight chill in the breeze. 

"Because they were so _boring."_ Thorin sighs, looking utterly put out. "I didn't feel like I was getting anything out of it, but my sister forced me to go." He says. "And because they're her kids..."

Bilbo nods in understanding. "And now?"

"You make it interesting." Thorin says. "I don't learn much from hearing other people's problems, but being physically taught how to solve the problems - that's what I learn from." He gives Bilbo a cheeky smile, then. "Doesn't help that you're rather attractive."

Bilbo rolls his eyes, huffing, even though he flushes right up to the tips of his ears. Ever since they first started talking, Thorin had been slyly hitting on him. If the mood struck, Bilbo would compliment him back - it was amusing to see Thorin so flustered at compliments, as if someone as handsome as him had never been told he was pretty.

Bilbo mulls over Thorin's words for a moment. He supposed he had been helping Thorin - showing him how to prepare nutritious meals that were child-friendly, teaching him the proper way to bandage a cut or scrape and the right medicines to use, helping him create an efficient schedule for the boys... 

It was fun for Bilbo, too. That was partly why he did it. Frodo was still too young for many of the things that Fili and Kili did, but the children were just so sweet and energetic, Bilbo couldn't help but bend to their whims. Thorin loved them very much, and their family unit made Bilbo envious - it felt nice to be a little part of that.

"You know, one day we won't need to go to those meetings anymore." Bilbo says.

Thorin nods. 

"Does it ever scare you? Knowing you're the one who's going to steer the direction their lives go in."

"Sometimes." Thorin says, reaching over to grip Bilbo's hand reassuringly. "But it's kind of exciting, you know? Every day, something different happens, and they learn something new. It's nice to be a part of that, even if Dis can't always be around."

Bilbo smiles a little forlornly. "I wish Primula and Drogo could have seen Frodo grow up." He says. "I just know he's going to be a wonderful kid. He's a great sleeper, you know. Always on schedule, stops crying as soon as he's fed and cuddled."

Thorin chuckles. "Now that sounds good." He says. "Kili would scream for hours, for no reason. Just liked making noise, I think."

Bilbo laughs. "That sounds like him." He glances across the park, where Kili was giggling and screeching every time Fili pushed him on the swing. Their relationship was really good, and there was hardly any rivalry between them. It was sweet to see.

"Well, in either case, I don't mind going to the meetings." Bilbo says. 

It was true - he thought they were helpful, and the people were really nice. After every meeting there was tea and coffee, too, and the biscuits that were served were rather delicious. It was just something relaxing to go to, it made a weight lift off Bilbo's shoulders every time a problem that had arisen the week before was discussed and resolved.

Of course, seeing Thorin was nice too. The support group was a place where they mostly talked about the children - about how school went, about doctor's appointments and inoculations, about diets and stories to read. Outside of the meetings, they talked about just about everything else, so it was nice to focus solely on the kids for just a little while.

"Want to go grab a coffee sometime next week?" Thorin asks him. "I know a little café with a gated playground, for the boys."

Bilbo nods, giving him a flushed smile. "Sure."

Thorin grins again. "Great." He says, eyes bright and cheeks flushed as he watches Bilbo's face, even as the boys come over to clamour for his attention.

Thorin really was a handsome man, Bilbo thought, even if he didn't quite realise it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by Meg~


	20. A Little Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili and Bilbo observe a Dwarven meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kili/Fili/Bilbo/Thorin implied~

Bilbo watched as Thorin argued with Dwarven delegates in heavy Khuzdul. He looked like a perfect mix of irritated and frustrated, and Bilbo felt a little bad for him, but it was a little amusing, too. The only reason Bilbo wasn't involved was because he didn't really understand Khuzdul well in the first place.

Fili was slouched beside him, with intensely concentrated eyes that made his lazy position look almost professional. Bilbo wanted to laugh at him, too, because both the Dwarves were so into the argument that neither of them noticed when Kili crept into the room stole the space in Bilbo's lap for his own.

"What are they saying?" Bilbo asks quietly.

Kili glances down at him, looking on the verge of pouting as he tries to huddle down in Bilbo's arms (made difficult by their height difference). "They're just arguing about trade agreements." He whispers back.

Bilbo hums in reply, resting his cheek on Kili's shoulder. "Who's winning?"

Kili muffles a snort in Bilbo's curls. "Not Uncle." He says. "Not yet, but I think he'll get his way. His ideas seem fairer, and more efficient. I think they're testing him."

"How so?" Bilbo asks curiously.

"They're testing to see if he's persistent enough to stand up to them." Kili says. "In a proper way."

Bilbo nods. "How's he doing, though? I hope they're not being too hard on him."

Kili smiles faintly, and runs his fingers through Bilbo's hair. "I think Uncle is holding up alright, but I don't think he realises they're testing him. It'll be funny when he does, though."

Bilbo chuckles. "That's mean, Kili." He scolds, without any true bite in his words. "You should worry for your Uncle."

"I think you do enough of that for all three of us." Kili gives him a cheeky, eyes glancing over at his brother. "Fi doesn't look too concerned."

Bilbo sighs, leaning into Kili's touch. "I can't help but worry." He says quietly.

Kili sighs at him, too, and presses a fleeing kiss to his forehead. "It's okay. It's nice to have someone worry over us, you know. Makes me feel special."

Bilbo nuzzles his neck. "You must know that I think you're all more than _just_ special, do you not?"

Kili grins, looking rather pleased with himself. "Oh, I know."

Bilbo huffs out a small laugh, and glances back over to Thorin to make sure he's doing alright. "How much longer until the meeting is over, do you think?"

"Oh, not long now." Kili says, nodding to himself. "Then it's dinner, and bath time." He grins again. "You'll join me, right?"

Bilbo rolls his eyes. "Sharing is caring, Kili." He says.

Kili pouts at him. "I know."

Bilbo chuckles, rubbing Kili's side reassuringly. "Want me to brush your hair again?" He offers, just because he knows Kili's loves it and because he feels a little bad for Kili at the moment.

Kili's flushed smile is worth it, though. "Yeah." He says quietly.

Bilbo accepts the swift kiss Kili gives him, and settles back against the chair. Faintly, he realises that Fili has noticed Kili is in the room, and was paying less attention to the conversation still going on.

"Just a little longer." Bilbo tells Kili as he gives Fili an encouraging smile.

Kili nods. "Just a little longer."


	21. Pushing Daisies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo owns a spice shop.
> 
> It wasn't what people expected. His spices catered to human needs and wants, of course, but also to the more... 
> 
> Unknown variety.

Bilbo owned a spice shop.

It wasn't what people expected. His spices catered to human needs and wants, of course, but also to the more... unknown variety. A mixture of all kinds of people with all kinds of different looks and personalities came through his doors, and he was certain he had something for them all.

One day, a strange man came through the wooden door.

The bell above him tinkled quietly. Bilbo looked up from where he was crushing daisies in a mortar and pestle (made over a hundred years prior from Thai granite that had been soaked in water siphoned a high mountain for three moon cycles). The granite had never broken on Bilbo, never cracked or chipped, and hadn't even begun to ware away despite the extensive use it had undergone throughout the years.

"Hello, how may I help you?" Bilbo asks with a small smile. 

The man looked down at him. His eyes were blue and bright - unnaturally so. It was hard to tell when someone was anything other than human, but Bilbo had acquired a taste for it in his years.

"I'm looking for something specific." The man says as he approaches. He was rather tall, but his shoulders where wide and his arms were thick. Bilbo was sure he hadn't seem someone so handsome since the Elvenking wandered into his shop some decades ago. 

"Healing or otherwise?" Bilbo asks. It was an instinctive response - some people came in looking for concoctions to heal wounds, others came looking for something to change their appearance, or mask their scent, or add some sort of... _flare_ to their personal lives.

"Healing."

Bilbo felt a little relieved. Healing was what he did best. "Alright. Tell me of the wound."

"I have a nephew." The man says. "He's young - only a hundred years old."

Bilbo nods in understanding. The first century was always the hardest, both mentally and physically. "What ails him?"

"He was attacked by an Exorcist." The man says. Bilbo could all but taste the rage in his voice. "He's healed, now, but his skin was damaged. It's no where visible, but if there's something that can repair it..."

"Do you have an image?" Bilbo asks. "If I could see the wound, I'm positive I can fix something up for it..."

The man pulls a phone out of his pocket; it clicks as he unlocks it, and then he turns it to show Bilbo the screen.

Bilbo hummed in thought, gently taking the phone from the man. His nephew's skin looked smooth in the undamaged areas, free of blemishes or even burns from the sun. The damaged area, however, was inflamed and blistery. The marks looked as though they were scarring, and Bilbo felt a little sympathetic. 

To be injured so badly at such a young age, it was truly terrible.

"Does he have allergies?" Bilbo asks.

"Rosewood." The man answers. "Thornwood, too. So you can help?"

"I believe I can, yes." Bilbo nods. 

The man grips his hand briefly, when he gives back the phone. "Thank you. No one else seemed to be able or willing to help."

Bilbo understand that, too. Working on such young skin, with such harsh wounds, was certainly daunting. If done improperly, the scarring could deepen, and become even worse. Such delicate skin was temperamental at best, and because of the younger age, the immune system and viral or bacterial infections were a concern.

"It's alright." Bilbo pats his hand reassuringly. "I'll get started on it right away."

The man nods, and pulls his hand back. "When should I expect it?"

Bilbo hums thoughtfully. "Three days? Is that alright?"

The man nods, looking oddly relieved. 

"Just leave your name and number here, then." Bilbo slides his journal across the desk, along with a quill. It would bind the man to Bilbo in a sort of business contract - it would be simple work to contact him, and simple work to get his pay, too. These forms of contracts were much less complicated than what he had with his human costumers. The exchange of money and credit cards and such were forms of banking he rather disliked. 

The man picks up the quill and fills in his information, before sliding the journal back to Bilbo. The payment wouldn't go through until Bilbo had fulfilled his side of the contract, but it was a start. 

 

Bilbo knew a lot about herbs, and of course, spices. He had other jobs to partake during the week, but they were mindless in nature and repetitive - he liked the challenge of creating something new.

The man's name was Thorin Oakenshield - that's what he'd written in the journal. It had taken a little extra research, but Bilbo's unfortunate curiosity and led him to finding out that Thorin was from the line of Durin - the _Dwarves._

He didn't know much of Dwarven culture, but he knew more than the humans did, in any case. Humans thought Dwarves were stout and hairy and strictly miners, and while they were partial to beards, their heights and professions were generally not so limiting. Granted, they were also generally interested in the earthly businesses - smelting, blacksmithing, jewellery making, and other professions of the sort. But human stereotypes were somewhat ridiculous, if Bilbo were being truly honest.

Still, because he didn't require much sleep (with the help of potions) he was able to quickly fill in the human orders he had, and began on Thorin's as soon as he could.

The first thing he used was Tea Tree, because it was good as a disinfectant and for burns, with a bit of lavender that had been soaked in a Tea Tree broth for the last eight hours to assist with the burns a little more. There were many things Bilbo could use for antiviral and antifungal infection protection, but he ended up using Myrrh (which was also known for soothing skin conditions) and Melissa (which aided in issues with blisters and had antimicrobial properties). 

As a side thought, while the concoction was brewing in Echinacea water (which would help boost white blood cells, and had anti-inflammatory and antiviral properties), Bilbo began to prepare something that would help Thorin's nephew's immune system.

Hearing that such a young thing being so badly injured did have him worried, after all. If the poor thing's immune system couldn't handle the wound, then not even Bilbo's medicines would help.

He used crushed Clove Bud, Thyme and Astragalus to create something for Thorin's nephews, with a little bit of lemon and lime to improve the flavour. 

When everything was ready to go, Bilbo messaged Thorin to see if he wanted to come in early, and suggested he bring his nephew along so that Bilbo could show him how to administer the medicine.

They arrived a few hours later, after general (human) closing time, when the moon was out and the orange streetlamps were shining a soft light into Bilbo's private workroom.

Thorin knocked on his door, this time. It was dark, so it was harder for their kind to enter an establishment when not invited, though not impossible.

Of course, Bilbo supposed he probably should have remembered to keep the door unlocked.

"Hello again." Bilbo smiles shyly as he opens the door up. The bell tinkles as he moves the door open wider, allowing them entrance.

Thorin gives him a small, strained smile as he enters ahead of his nephew - nephews? Bilbo observes the two that followed him, his trained eyes gleaning information from them. They appeared to be brothers, despite their different colouring. The darker haired of the two was certainly the injured one, as his walk was a little off and there were signs of strain and fatigue in his face. He didn't quite look too healthy, Bilbo thought.

"This is my nephew, Kili." Thorin says, shutting the door as the two enter. "And his elder brother, Fili."

Bilbo offers them a smile. "Welcome." He says. "I hope you don't mind my state... I'm not dressed very well." He was still wearing his waistcoat, though it wasn't fully buttoned, and his pants had flour stains still faintly smeared on them. "If you'll just come this way..."

"How did it go?" Thorin asks as he's led into Bilbo's private workroom, where Bilbo lights several lanterns and gestures for Kili to climb onto the worktable already set up. 

"Well, I believe." Bilbo says as he riffles through his drawers to find where he had safely squirreled away Thorin's order. "Can you expose the injured area, please?"

Kili squirmed at the instruction, looking rather nervous, but a look from Thorin and a gentle squeeze on the hand from Fili had him tentatively pulling his shirt off.

His side looked worse than Bilbo had imagined - it was inflamed, and quite red. It looked very painful.

Bilbo placed a big, oddly shaped jar filled with the medicine beside him. "This is a mixture of Tea Tree, Lavender, Myrrh and Melissa." He says. "Among other things, it should aid in rejuvenating your skin and fighting off bacterial infections and viruses."

Kili nods, though he still looked apprehensive.

Bilbo held out a hand, reaching out to touch the wound, but he only did so after Kili gave him a small nod. The skin was hot under his fingers, and when he pressed a little, he could feel the damaged nerves jolting. "The Melissa should help with the spasms, or at least soothe them until the wounds heal."

Bilbo reached for the jar, and pulled out the stopper. The scent made his nose twitch, but it was a Hobbit thing - the scents weren't quite unpleasant, but they were ones that only Hobbits smelt, so it was a little odd. 

He gestured for Thorin to come closer. "It's fairly flexible in how it's applied, but I suggest you use this." He shows Thorin a small, rounded object shaped like a tear-drop. It fit in his palm comfortably. "It's made from Red Coral, which is said to stimulate the bloodstream. After every application, soak it in boiled water for at least four hours, to clean it. Understood?"

Thorin nods, staring at Bilbo intently. "Yes."

Bilbo nods too, satisfied. "Alright." He holds the coral by the thin end, and dips it into the mixture. "You need to use enough to cover the entire wound - every part of the skin that is red and inflamed. Don't use too much, but make sure the entire injury is covered, so that it heals evenly."

Again, Thorin nods.

"Now," Bilbo turns back to Kili and places a reassuring hand on his side, "It shouldn't burn too terribly, but as with any injury, it will hurt. If it gets to be too much, you must tell me - I don't know your pain tolerance, but if it's too much I will remake it."

Kili nods. "It won't... won't hurt too much, will it? Won't make it worse?"

"No, it won't." Bilbo says. "I'm sure that it will either have a minimal effect, or it will work. I'm prepared for either situation, but I think it will work. Ready?"

Kili nods, twisting a little to expose his injured side more, and grips his brother's arm tightly.

Bilbo presses the mixture onto the edge of the wound, where the skin was red and inflamed. "How does that feel?"

Kili's hand flexes on his brother's arm. "Not too bad..."

"That's good." Bilbo soothes as he spreads the medicine further along Kili's side. Kili tensed, and Bilbo paused, but when no protest rose he continued until the entire wound was covered. "Feel alright still?"

"It tingles." Kili says quietly. "Is that normal?"

"This mixture is just for you, but I see nothing wrong with that." Bilbo wipes the smooth coral piece clean, and places it aside. "The nerves in your skin are probably being stimulated, and the blood cells are being directed into healing, rather than halting the damage. As long as you can tolerate the pain, everything is fine."

Kili nods again.

Bilbo turns to Thorin. "You can use a simple bandage to keep it clean, and before putting another dosage on, clean the entire wound of residue with warm water and a soft cloth."

Thorin nods. "How many dosages?"

Bilbo hums in thought as he begins to bandage the wound. "I'd say three times a day? This jar should last for at least a month, but I think the wound will be healed before then."

"Only a month?" Kili's eyes widened with shock. He looked faintly teary. "I can be normal in just a month...?"

Bilbo nods.

Kili's answering smile of relief makes his heart clench.

Bilbo moves back to the drawer, and pulls out the other medicine. "I took the liberty of making this, too - it's to help boost your immune system." He says. "With all the energy being directed to the wound, I wanted to make sure you didn't fall ill. If you drink a teaspoon every hour, for at least nine days, your body won't be susceptible to infection."

"Really?"

Bilbo passed the jar into Kili's hands. "Really. Might not taste too pleasant, but I added lemon and lime so it'll be bearable." He frowns for a moment, and turns to the rows of shelves along the wall to pull off another small jar. "Take this as well - it's just simple aloe vera, but it aids in healing burns and helps skin ailments. Use it to cover the wound for a few hours, before you bandage it again with the first mixture - do you think you can put aside some time to do that a few times a week? You'll not be able to cover the wound, not even with clothes."

Kili nods, and takes that as well, eyes wide. 

Bilbo leads them back through the spice shop, after Kili was stable enough to walk, and gives Thorin a new coral applicator as he packages the medicines and jars.

"How much?" Thorin asks.

Bilbo smiles. "It's alright, the original contract still stands."

Thorin's eyes widen a little. "Are you sure?"

Bilbo nods, and slides the package across the desk to Thorin. He gets Thorin to sign in the journal, and once he himself had as well, a coloured seal in the shape of a leaf appears on the page. "It's alright. If anything goes wrong, just contact me, okay?" He says as he leads them to the door. 

Kili seems to pause for a moment, before pulling Bilbo into a swift hug. "Thank you." He says quietly.

Bilbo pats him on the back. "Not a problem, dear. It's what I do." He smiles faintly.

Kili smiles back, and takes his brother's hand as they exit the shop.

"I can't thank you enough for helping us." Thorin says as he stares down at Bilbo, eyes smouldering.

Bilbo feels a faint stirring in his stomach as a flush comes to his cheeks. "It's alright, really."

Thorin reaches down to pull him into an embrace, holding him tightly.

The feel of Thorin's arms around him sends a strange thrill through Bilbo, as if he'd been shocked. His eyes widen, and when Thorin pulls away, he looks just as shocked as Bilbo feels.

"I'll see you later, then?" Bilbo asks, almost shyly.

Thorin nods. "See you later."

The bell above the door tinkled, and then he was gone.

Bilbo returned to his spot behind his work desk, and began pushing daises through the sieve he'd had resting on the bench. He couldn't help but smile, though, even as he pushed the daises, because Thorin's little smile was stuck in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if any of these herbs are wrong, I'm not a professional~ ^^"
> 
> Also, "Pushing Daisies" is an idiom for being dead - a body is in the ground, being used as fertilizer by plants, and is hence "pushing" plants up from the earth.


	22. Red Riding Hood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wolf appears at Bilbo's smial.

"Oh, Mister Baggins, don't forget the wedding tomorrow!"

Bilbo waves a hand over his shoulder, turning his head to hide his cringe. He'd never been one to enjoy weddings - the ceremonies were sweet, but the parties left him feeling dreadfully bored and rather out of place. 

Besides, he found no reason to make the trip from his lovely little Bag-End all the way to into the heart of the Shire for a wedding that wasn't of his blood. Of course, it was tradition to personally invite everyone in the Shire, but Bilbo was sure he could make some excuse to get out of it. He'd still attend the ceremony, of course, because that was in a closer meadow and would allow him to gift the couple, but he didn't feel the need to attend the reception. 

He sighed, and buttoned his long, red cloak tightly around his throat. It was chilly at this time of year; white snow covered the ground and brought a briskness to the air that was refreshing to breathe in.

He shivered as the wind blew past him, snapping the cloak out from around his shoulders. He tugged up the hood, and held onto the basket of bread and cheese that he'd picked up from the market. 

His home was the furthest away from the Shire. Bag-End was the nicest smial, and the largest too, with many corridors and rooms and furnishings. It was built under the highest hill in the Shire, the hill that was the greenest with the nicest view of the surrounding forest. Bilbo's garden was the best too, he thought, though he may have been biased. His tomatoes had, however, won best in show for four years running. 

He knew there was a warm hearth and a roaring fire waiting for him at home, so he trudged on and desperately hoped that it wouldn't begin to snow until he was through his front door. 

He was far enough from the Shire that he was rather worried when he heard the sound of a howl.

Wolves weren't common around the Shire, not since the Fell Winter. He wondered what would bring one here.

Bilbo bit at his lip, but winced as the cold made the bite sting a little more than he was expecting. He wanted to cry out in relief when his home came into view, peeking out from under the snow-capped hilltop. 

The sound of a growl made him halt as he neared his gate. His eyes widened as his heart began to hammer away in his chest, and for a moment he felt as though he would faint.

There was a wolf, a big one, and it was staring right at him.

Bilbo gripped his basket tighter, and took a step back.

It certainly wasn't a normal, wild wolf. It was too big - it's shoulders were wide, it's fur thick and dark, and its eyes were so bright and intelligent that Bilbo startled for a moment. It took Bilbo another moment before he noticed the darker, matted fur on the beast's shoulder - it was injured, and injured badly.

He felt a spark of sympathy. A wound in this weather was bad news, and this wolf seemed so far from home. If it hadn't killed him by now, it was likely not going to.

"Are- are you alright?" Bilbo asks as loud as he dared. "I can help."

The wolf merely dips his head, looking apprehensive and a little on the defensive side. 

Bilbo bites his lip again, but hardly feels the pain. He tentatively makes his way across the clearing, towards his gate, and pushes it open. "You can come in." He says, glancing back nervously. "Just shut the gate. It's going to snow soon."

Bilbo felt anxious turning his back to the wolf, but he left his gate and his door ajar anyway. 

The wolf followed him in. It hardly fit under his ceiling but when Bilbo led him into the warm living room, the tell-tale sounds of bones shifting and cracking to reform started echoing throughout his halls. 

Bilbo returned to the living room once he'd gathered his first aid kit, a bowl of hot water and the largest clothing he owned.

It was a Dwarf slouched on his rug. Bilbo was a little shocked - Dwarves hardly ever travelled near the Shire, so he'd never seen one before, but this man was definitely one.

Bilbo offered the clothes, but had to help the man pull them on. They were a tad small, so Bilbo pulled off his large cloak and draped that across him, too.

He tended to the wound on the man's shoulder after that. It was no longer bleeding, but looked inflamed and red. He cleaned away the blood and covered it in a healing salve, ignoring the man's hisses and winces of pain. After he'd bandaged it, he dipped a cloth in the warm water and began wiping the dirt and grime from the Dwarf's face, arms and hands.

"My name is Bilbo." He says. His knees were starting to ache from sitting on them, but he ignored it for now. "Bilbo Baggins."

"Thorin Oakenshield." The Dwarf replied, his voice gruff and stiff from misuse.

"What's a Dwarf doing this far west?" Bilbo asks as he gently scrubs at Thorin's face. He was quite handsome under all the dirt. 

"Got attacked." Thorin says. "Got lost."

Bilbo hums in thought. "Probably best not to head out for a few days, then." He says. "No one really dares to enter the Shire much these days, you'll be fine here." He pauses. "If you want to stay."

"If you don't mind..."

"Not at all." Bilbo smiles a little. It would be nice to have company from someone other than the Shirefolk - talk of gardens and gossip, while satisfying sometimes, could get dreadfully boring when one didn't want to hear it.

 

Thorin was an interesting person to talk to. He spoke of great Dwarven cities under mountains, and of Dragons, and of adventures. Bilbo was helplessly drawn into the tales he wove, and childishly insisted Thorin continue speaking even after the story was told.

Thorin seemed interested in him, as well. Said it was something about his scent - said he smelled good, and grinned rather _wolfishly_ when Bilbo flushed right up to the tips of his ears.

Like Bilbo expected, there was a rather large snow storm the next day. He was glad he had stocked up on food, or else he'd never had survived with Thorin cooped up in Bag-End. 

They spent most of the day huddled in the living room, where the fire was burning warmly. Bilbo routinely made tea, and kept all his quilts and blankets in the living room for them to use.

In fact, he fell asleep curled up on the nest-like pile they'd created, and woken up with Thorin draped out beside him, looking rather content with himself.

Bilbo was certainly attracted to him. Thorin was a little prickly on the outside, but Bilbo assumed that's just how he was. The Dwarf was good at conversation, and listened whenever Bilbo talked. He thanked him after every cup of tea, and folded up the blankets they weren't using without being asked. He allowed Bilbo to worry over his wound, and hardly protested when the wound caused him pain. 

But Bilbo loved his tales. There was something so exciting about Thorin, it made his stomach curl. 

So he didn't really protest when Thorin gripped him by the hood of his red riding cloak, and pulled him into a surprisingly tender kiss.

Of course, he didn't really protest at the next one, or the one after that, either.

In fact, he didn't protest at all.


	23. Alive In Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin always dreams of a strange place called Wonderland.

"Isn't it just _wonderful,_ Thorin?"

Thorin hummed in agreement as his body began to wake. "How do you know my name?"

The creature before him grinned. His eyes were bright, wondrously bright, as if there was a luminescent form glowing behind them. "I've always known your name, haven't I? But you always forget mine!" He laughed, tilting his head back.

Thorin gripped his head as he winced a little, fighting off the last dredges of sleep. This dream - because it was a dream, he was certain - was one he always had. But it never felt like a dream, and left him feeling delirious and out of place whenever he woke.

This person, too, was always in the dream - his name was Bilbo, Thorin remembered suddenly. The people a person dreamed of were all people they'd met before, even fleetingly, because the brain couldn't just think up an entirely new face, but Thorin was sure he'd remember a face like Bilbo's.

"Where is this place?" Thorin asks, as he sits upright. He was on a circular bed, of sorts, but instead of a mattress and bedframe, it was a tree stump, covered in a white array of flowers Thorin had never seen in the waking world.

"Why," Bilbo says with another grin, "This is Wonderland!"

Thorin tried not to sigh, but the noise that escaped him was still frustrated.

Either way, this place, wherever it happened to be, was _beautiful._

From his seat on the bed of flowers, all he could see was the world of Wonderland. Tall, spiralling structures like towers from a castle dotted the landscape, made of white stone. A bright array of vegetation covered the rest of the ground - flowers as big as a house with as many petals as Thorin could count, trees the sizes of dogs, vines that formed paths up into the air... it was ridiculous, really. 

Thorin supposed that was the point.

"Look." Bilbo draws his attention out to the horizon. "The Queen has moved."

Thorin frowned. Even though the view from Bilbo's home (because he assumed this was such a place) was wonderful, the most noticeable feature of Wonderland was the chess pieces. They weren't ordinary chess pieces, oh no. They were taller than anything else, bigger too - they reached up past the clouds and disappeared into the sky, and were so far away that they were just silhouettes from this vantage point. Thorin had never seen them move, exactly, but every now and then he would wake up in this dream and one had changed location.

This time, it was the Queen - the white one, from what Thorin could tell. He assumed that all of Wonderland was a chess board, but he did not know who was playing, or how they were moving such immovable structures.

But this was a dream - anything was possible.

Probably.

"Come along, little Prince." Bilbo gripped his hands and pulled him from the bed with surprising strength. His feet hovered above the ground - a pair of fluffy, impossibly white wings were sprouted from the small of his back, and although Thorin hardly ever saw them flutter, they kept Bilbo suspended in the air.

"I'm not a Prince." He tells Bilbo. "Where are we going?"

He'd learned to just do as Bilbo says, in these dreams. Bilbo never allowed him to get hurt (if he could get hurt in dreams, anyway) and had even, on occasion, gotten angry when someone (or rather, something) had tried to touch him.

For some reason, he trusted Bilbo.

"You're a Prince here." Bilbo tells him, blinking his lovely eyes. "You should be King, though." He frowns, though it looks more like a petulant pout. "The Elvenkings are bothering me."

"Elves?"

"Of course!" Bilbo gives him a stunned look as he leads him from the house (though, it can hardly be called that - it had rounded doorways, yes, and a bed and a kitchen and other amenities, but it didn't have any walls, floors or even a ceiling. They still exited through the lone rounded door, even though it would have been much simpler to walk around it.)

"I'm not following." Thorin frowns.

"It's alright." Bilbo grips his arm and grins. "You don't really need to."

"This is a dream, isn't it?" Thorin questions.

"Well, not really." Bilbo says, looking contemplative. "More like you only come here when you're dreaming."

"And why is that?"

"Because I didn't think you'd appreciate being moved over here permanently." Bilbo's feet touch the ground as he gets a heart-wrenchingly sad look on his face.

"Well..."

Bilbo just looks sadder. "No, no, no, I get it." He says. "You probably have a better life over there, right?"

Thorin frowns, looking as puzzled as he felt.

"I can't see you over there." Bilbo says, tightening his grip on Thorin's arm. "I can only watch you when you're here, with me."

"You can't blame me for that." Thorin says quietly.

"You were born here, though." Bilbo says indignantly. "You belong here!"

Thorin stares at him. "What do you mean I was born here?"

Bilbo huffs at him, and turns away.

"You can't just say that and not tell me!" Thorin growls, frowning deeper.

Bilbo snorts, as if to say _oh yes I can._ "Do you even like me?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" Thorin asks, incredulous.

"If you don't, you can just say so!" Bilbo answers back, his voice raised defensively.

Thorin let out a gruff sound, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're so strange."

"Strange is what I do best." Bilbo answers stiffly, frowning in a way that made his cute face scrunch up in a frustratingly adorable way.

"It's not that I don't like you." Thorin says. "I've been dreaming this- this- whatever this is, for years. I _do_ like you, I'm just confused. You've yet to explain anything to me."

Thorin could remember most of the conversations he'd had with Bilbo. He'd avoided telling Thorin anything revealing about this place, but he'd shown Thorin a lot of it. The Brandywine Creek, the Blue Mountains, the castles and the caves and the smials. Thorin felt like he knew Bilbo really well, and if he wasn't so concerned for his sanity, he would think of Bilbo as a close friend.

It didn't help that Bilbo was undeniably attractive, both physically and emotionally.

"I suppose... I suppose I haven't." Bilbo sighs looking defeated. "If I do, who's to say you'll want to come back? If you didn't want to see this place, you wouldn't dream of it, you know."

Thorin stares at him, a little shocked. "You mean you don't control it?"

Bilbo shakes his head, looking a little ruffled.

"I always thought you did." Thorin says. "Why do I wake up in your bed, though?"

Bilbo shrugs, unknowing, and smiles a little. "You always have, though."

Thorin sighs. "We'll talk later, alright?" He says, conceding. "Then you'll answer some of my questions."

Bilbo seems to struggle with the offer, but eventually sighs. "Fine. But let's get going, I want to show you the Butterflies!"

"Alright."

"Just be quiet, or else they'll pounce on you."

 _Pounce?_ "A-ah, what kind of butterflies are they again...?"


	24. Affectionate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has very affectionate lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kili/Fili/Bilbo/Thorin implied~

Dwarves had larger hands than Hobbits, it wasn't an unknown fact.

Bilbo was _fascinated,_ though. It didn't help than he had three Dwarven lovers, of whom could be considered tall for their race. It also didn't help that all three of them were rather touchy.

The thing is, they didn't even realise it. 

Thorin was probably the worst at it, believe it or not. It wasn't strange to have him come up behind Bilbo and grab his hips, press his nose into Bilbo's hair. He often slipped an arm around Bilbo's waist, griped his hand as they walked or when Bilbo stood beside him at his throne. He cuddled the most in his sleep, pulling Bilbo to his chest and resting his cheek on Bilbo's neck or shoulder and sometimes even laying right on top of him, a thigh shoved between both of Bilbo's.

Fili was a little more hesitant to show him affection in public, though. He stood impossibly close to Bilbo, their shoulders together, whenever he could and sometimes their knuckles brushed as if all he wanted to do was grip Bilbo's hand in his own. He was the one that glanced over at Bilbo the most often, as if to assure himself that Bilbo was still there. 

In private, though, Fili was more open. He'd lounge on top of Bilbo as if he thought he actually fit in Bilbo's lap, and wasn't so afraid to curl up in his arms and hold on a little tighter for a longer embrace. He enjoys Bilbo brushing his hair, and often falls asleep with his head slouched on Bilbo's shoulder, or on top of Bilbo's head.

Kili - well, Kili didn't care who saw him being affectionate. He'd hug Bilbo tightly, nuzzle the side of Bilbo's face, kiss him straight on the lips. He liked affection, was sometimes starved for it - during those days, he'd only be affectionate in private, where he'd all but demand their attention. Bilbo liked his openness, even if it caused him much embarrassment.

They weren't just so affectionate with him, either. They were with each other, too, constantly brushing hands or touching shoulders or pressing small, lingering kisses to foreheads and temples. It always set Bilbo's heart aflutter.

He'd never imagined his life would turn out like this, never thought he'd leave the Shire and fall in love or even meet Dwarves.

He didn't regret it, though. 

Because at night, when he was tired from working, Thorin would take him by the hand and guide him to their bath, where the boys had kept the water warm before travelling into bed themselves. And Thorin would pulls his clothes from him, and together they would bathe - it was relaxing, and soothed the muscles that had been tense for the entire day.

Neither one of them were comfortable with going to sleep without the other. Bilbo supposed it partially came from the fear of waking up alone - even with Kili and Fili there, it wasn't the same, not after what he and Thorin had gone through on Ravenhill. 

And at night, when they were dried and dressed in soft night clothes and their hair was brushed and braided, Thorin would take him in his arms and kiss him as if nothing else mattered. And they would slip under the covers, and because Bilbo and Kili were generally in the middle, Kili would gravitate into Bilbo's arms and Thorin would sling an arm across the four of them.

No, he didn't regret staying, and he likely never would.


	25. In The Eye Of The Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin meet through Dis.

Bilbo was an artist - sort of. He was, first and foremost, a tailor. His mother had taught him her expert sewing skills and his father had taught him how to run a business. He owned a tailor shop, now, with wonderful mahogany desks and several fitting rooms and racks of beautiful dresses and suits.

It was many years ago that a certain customer came in for a fitting. She was a lovely woman, commissioning a tailored suit for an important, high-rise event that Bilbo never caught the name of. She'd talked of her hobbies a lot, and Bilbo had become intrigued - she'd brought in a doll, on their second meeting, for him to see, but it wasn't just any old doll. 

It was absolutely _beautiful._

The doll was made from resin, strung together with elastic. It was able to pose due to the ball-joints that connected it's joints and limbs together. It was completely customizable - she could change the eyes, the wig, the clothes... change the painting on the face and body, too. She told Bilbo that if another doll had similar size dimensions, she could even switch heads and bodies around. 

Bilbo didn't know what it was about the dolls, but he was _intrigued._

It took him another year to build up the courage to buy one. They were an expensive, luxury hobby, and Bilbo had very specific tastes so it took him several months to find a doll with a face he liked. 

The first one he bought, he named "Oak". The doll came blank, but he'd researched how to do their painting, and although it took him several tries, he eventually gave the doll a "faceup" - or face painting. With a smooth, shapely brown wig and delightfully realistic looking eyes the colour of a frozen, winter lake... well, Bilbo was undeniably hooked.

Clothing was a problem, though - he'd never found anything that he thought suited the character he'd made up in his head, so he decided to make them himself.

Making clothes to fit a doll that was only sixty-three centimetres tall was a lot more difficult that making clothes to fit a person that was almost triple that. It took him a long time to make such small stitches look effortless, but in the end it was all worth it.

Now he ran a shop for humans, and a shop for ball-jointed dolls. He offered a faceup service, where people would commission him to paint their dolls, and he offered commissionable tailoring for doll clothes, too, as well as routinely putting up standard clothing on his online store.

He loved his job - loved putting _life_ into other people's precious possessions. 

One day, a lovely lady online commissioned him. She had a beautiful sculpt that Bilbo had been wanting to paint for a while, and she wanted the dolls' body to be blushed, as well. Bilbo had been speaking to her for a while - Dis was a regular costumer, and was wonderful to talk to. She was very enthusiastic about her dolls.

Because her brother lived in the area, she'd given her brother the doll before she'd gone on a business trip so that he could bring it in to Bilbo. 

Her brother's name was Thorin. He was a handsome man - tall, hair dark and thick, eyes sharp and bright. His face was all angles and harsh slopes that were effortlessly attractive. His presence commanded attention, and Bilbo felt drawn to him like a moth to flames.

They got along well, too. Thorin didn't really like dolls as much as Bilbo did, but because his sister liked them, he didn't think it was weird. He liked Oak, too, though Bilbo thought that that was in part due to the fact that his last name was Oakenshield.

Bilbo hardly noticed the time flying. Dis's commission took nearly a month, because Bilbo only worked on the dolls in his free time, and he had to lead the sealant dry on the resin before he could move onto the next layer. 

"How does she look?" Bilbo asks as he slips the last shoe back onto Dis's doll. 

Thorin hums contemplatively from where he sits on Bilbo's chair. He gingerly takes the doll from Bilbo when Bilbo offers. "I can't believe how tiny these details are." He says. "You pain such nice eyelashes, they're so fine."

Bilbo flushes, but grins. "Thanks." He says. "I hope Dis likes her."

"Oh, she's going to love it." Thorin gives him a grin in return. "She loves your work, you know. Follows you on social media. Always talks about the latest commissions you do. You wouldn't believe how excited she was when she got one of your open slots."

Bilbo laughs a little, embarrassed. "I've always wanted to paint this sculpt." Bilbo says as he takes the doll back, moving it to sit on the little area he had set up for photos on his desk. "And Dis is really nice, I'm glad I was able to do this for her."

Thorin chuckles a little. "Well, this has been an eye-opening experience." He says. "I never knew so much work went into them. Makes them feel really special, you know?"

Bilbo laughed. "Oh, I know." He says. "Oak is very special to me."

Thorin wanders over to the display where he kept Oak, and reaches out a hand. "Can I hold him?"

Bilbo nods as he seats Dis's doll on the props he had set up to take photos of her new faceup. It was nice that Thorin asked before touching - it was a gesture he appreciated, given the price and effort he put into the doll.

"Do you have a story for him?" Thorin asks as he moves one of Oak's arms absently. "Dis says a lot of people give them stories."

"People do." Bilbo nods in agreement. "I see a lot of people giving detailed backgrounds and personalities and stories to their characters, but I've never been interested in that." He says. "Oak is my only doll, so he's more like... a companion? I don't know, I feel a little less lonely with him around."

"I understand." Thorin says, giving him a small smile. "You made these clothes, too, right? They're beautiful."

"T-thanks." Bilbo smiles around the fluttering of his heart.

Thorin really was quite a handsome man, he hoped something would come from their time together.

Of course, Thorin's answering smile told him that maybe something would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of a personal thing that a fanfiction thing... if that makes sense~ it's a little short ^^"


	26. All Of Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Want to watch movies all day, then? Or sit outside in the sun, under our oak tree? We could just lay here, if you want."

Bilbo yawned as he shuffled where he stood. The tiles were freezing under his feet, but it wasn't completely unbearable. The house was just chilly because it was so early in the morning.

Of course, it was probably his fault for waking up and venturing from the bed this early, but he'd wanted to make Thorin something special. It was his husband's birthday, after all.

He made pancakes - the special ones that were full of blueberries and topped with banana slices and melted dark chocolate. It took a little effort, and he was a little uncomfortable out in the cold, but it was definitely worth it.

Maybe he should of worn more than a pair of boxer's and one of Thorin's shirts, though.

Thorin was still asleep when he snuck back into the bedroom. The carpet was relief to his feet. 

"Thorin." He whispers as he places down the tray and slips in under the covers. "Wake up, love."

Thorin huffed in his sleep, burying his head into the hand that Bilbo cups his cheek with. 

Bilbo chuckles, and dips down to press his lips to Thorin's. "Wake up, Thorin. I've made your pancakes."

"The blueberry ones...?" Thorin asks sleepily, blinking hazy, diluted eyes up at him.

Bilbo laughs quietly, and kisses him again. "Yes, love. The blueberry ones." He says. "With dark chocolate."

Thorin murmurs something undistinguishable, and pulls himself upright to kiss Bilbo properly. "You spoil me."

"Happy birthday." Bilbo answers, smiling when he feels Thorin's lips twitch against his own. "I love you."

"Love you too." Thorin whispers. "Thanks for breakfast."

 

After they'd eaten, because Thorin insisted they share, they laid around in bed for a long time. The warmth of the covers was very alluring, and being pressed into Thorin's side so comfortably was not something Bilbo would ever pass up.

"We can do whatever you want today." Bilbo says as he rests a hand on Thorin's chest. "But everyone's coming around for dinner tonight."

Thorin makes a grumbling noise in return, twisting so that he lies more on Bilbo that not. "I just want to lay around today." He says around another yawn.

Bilbo chuckles, patting his hair gently. "Want to watch movies all day, then? Or sit outside in the sun, under our oak tree? We could just lay here, if you want."

Thorin grins into his head, pressing lazy kisses along his forehead. "All of them." He declares.

Bilbo muffles his laughter into Thorin's long, unruly hair. "Alright, all of them."


	27. Morning Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo always has a strange visitor in the mornings.

Bilbo didn't have any pets, unless his unnaturally large goldfish counted. And he didn't really think it did, because it was a rather odd fish, and it was really simple to care for.

So when he woke up most mornings to wander into his kitchen, half asleep, to greet the super cute dog that had somehow managed to open his fridge he was always a little shocked.

"You know, you're a really cute pet dog." He says one morning as he crouches to pet the excited thing. "You'd be even cuter if you were _my_ pet dog."

The dog just _whuffs_ at him quietly, as if it hadn't somehow gotten into his apartment and raided his fridge. The dog didn't even eat anything - just open and closed the door until the noise woke Bilbo up. 

Bilbo sighs. "Let's go return you, alright? I doubt Thorin's even awake yet."

The dog just looks at him, tongue out and tail wagging. Bilbo chuckles, petting it's head - it's fur was thick and soft, and Bilbo knew Thorin took excellent care of him. 

Thorin and Bilbo had been neighbours for a long time. They met through the dog, actually - as soon as Bilbo moved in it started entering his apartment and doing the thing with the fridge every morning, like clockwork. They couldn't figure out how he got in, and Thorin was very miffed over it, but it became a running joke between them.

At this point in time, Bilbo returning with his dog was Thorin's alarm clock in the morning.

It was chilly outside, and Bilbo shivered as he lead the dog back to Thorin's apartment. His knuckles hurt when he rapped them on the door, but it only took a few moments of muffled groans and feet shuffling until Thorin sleepily opened it for him.

"Morning." Bilbo offers him a small smile, noticing how Thorin looked rather tired this morning. "Brought your pup back."

The dog was already squeezing in past Thorin's legs to streak down the hallway, making Bilbo chuckle.

"Thanks..." Thorin murmurs, swaying on his feet a little. Almost unthinkingly, he bends down to press a chaste kiss to Bilbo's lips. "Talk to you later."

Bilbo stares, wide-eyed and red in the cheeks as Thorin shuts the door. _Did he just-!_

The door suddenly flings wide open again, and Thorin stares at him, flustered. "Oh my God, I'm sorry- I just- I wasn't thinking-"

Bilbo, in the spur of the moment, stands on his toes to kiss Thorin again. "It's okay." He whispers.

Thorin smiles against his lips, still looking rather sleepy. "Sorry again." He chuckles, sounding breathless. "For the dog."

Bilbo laughs. "It's alright, saves me from having to use an alarm clock, the way he gets in the fridge."

Thorin laughs too.

It's a really wonderful laugh.


	28. Re-Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahal offers Bilbo a place in his Halls.

When Bilbo died, he didn't expect to meet Mahal. He thought he'd been guided into Yavanna's great gardens, meet his parents, and fall asleep in front of a roaring fireplace that was as warm as the sun on a midsummer's day.

So meeting Mahal was a bit of a shock.

He was more surprised when Mahal offered him a place in his Great Halls, of course with access to Yavanna's gardens if he ever needed it. Bilbo had never heard of such arrangements - they were only made for special people, after all. Apparently there had been an arrangement such as this between an Elf and Dwarf before, and between a Human and Elf too.

Bilbo felt honoured, and for a long time he waited at Mahal's entrance for Thorin.

Other Dwarves from the company started arriving. Bilbo felt absentminded until they arrived - of course, they were shocked at his presence. Some asked about it, while others trusted Mahal's judgement.

Still, he waited dutifully for Thorin. Some of the Dwarves were kind enough to speak of him to Bilbo, of how he was doing and what Erebor looked like now that the battle had been won. Bilbo appreciated their sugar-coating, because he could tell that Thorin was suffering, even though Bilbo had hoped he could move on.

His death wasn't Thorin's fault, after all. 

Still, Bilbo was delighted when he finally saw Thorin. He looked just like how Bilbo remembered him, even though Bilbo knew he would have aged and his hair would have been greyed. Still, Bilbo was delighted. It had felt like so long since he had seen Thorin, so long since he had moved from Mahal's entrance. 

Thorin hardly seemed to know what to do with himself when Bilbo flung himself into Thorin's arms. He gripped Bilbo tightly, hands fisting Bilbo's cloak, but Bilbo just laughed as tears filled his eyes.

"It's good to see you, Thorin." He whispers.

Thorin shoves his face in Bilbo's hair, trembling. He pulls Bilbo impossible closer. "You were dead."

"Unfortunately so." Bilbo answers. "But you were alive."

"It was awful. I just wanted to be with you."

Bilbo runs a hand down his back as a feeling of guilt creeps up on him. "How was your life? After..."

"Meaningless." Thorin whispers. "The Kingdom, relations with other races... they're all fine now, and the line of Durin is assured in Kili and Fili, but you weren't there Bilbo. I haven't felt such a deep, lasting pain..."

Bilbo held him a little tighter. "I'm sorry." He says. "I didn't want to leave you, but between either of us dying... I'll never choose you."

Thorin exhales shakily, and presses a hard kiss to Bilbo's temple. "Don't put me through that again."

Bilbo chuckles. "I won't." He says. "Shall we go?"


	29. A Slight Delay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're tired and sore and their flight is delayed, but Bilbo still manages to keep them together.

Bilbo sighed as he shuffled the papers in his hands, irritated. The weight of his suitcase was starting to hurt his shoulders a little, and his feet were very sore. He just wanted to be sitting down and resting, but that seemed unlikely to happen.

"Thorin, our flights have been delayed." He says as he approaches the waiting benches, where his lover was apprehensively scanning the crowds for him. "The earliest they could reschedule the flight is tomorrow evening."

"It's already tomorrow morning." Thorin mutters as he grips the ends of Bilbo's scarf to pull him into his lap. He kisses Bilbo's lips, almost lazily, in what Bilbo thought was just a show of dominance. 

Thorin didn't like others looking at him in the way they sometimes did, but he never acted overly possessive or jealous. He trusted Bilbo, and became a little more clingy, but it was nothing that made Bilbo feel uncomfortable. In fact, he rather liked Thorin's affectionate nature. He didn't often see it in public.

"Do you think a hotel around here will have a room free?" Thorin mutters as he snuffles his nose into the collar of Bilbo's coat. 

Bilbo shuffled through the papers in his hands and pulls out his mobile. "I'll start checking."

 

Eventually they made their way to a hotel that was in walking distance. Bilbo's shoulder was starting to ache, because his shoulders were a little weak from sitting hunched over his sewing table for work all day, so Thorin heroically offered to carry both. Bilbo had never been more grateful. 

The room was little and cheap - both things Bilbo had been looking for. They checked in quickly, and took the elevator to their room.

"Ah." Bilbo sighs as he topples onto the bed. "I'm so tired..."

Thorin mumbles something in agreement, falling down beside Bilbo.

Bilbo sighs, and pushes himself upright. "Come on, get undressed at least, love."

Thorin turned his face into the pillow, ignoring him.

Bilbo chuckled, and stood to pull off everything but his pants. Then he set to work wrangling Thorin's clothes from his pliant body, taking extra care with pulling off his shoes and socks and his belt. As soon as he was down to his pants, Thorin reached out and pulled Bilbo down onto the bed with him.

He fidgeted for a moment, before settling.

Bilbo chuckles again, and wraps Thorin up in his arms as best as he can. He absently runs the tips of his fingers up and down Thorin's back, knowing it soothed him. "What would you do without me, huh?"

"Be terribly lost." Thorin mutters. "And lonely."

Bilbo presses a chaste kiss to Thorin's chin. "Good thing I don't plan on leaving, hmm?"

"'M sorry the flight was cancelled." Thorin mumbles. "Didn't want it to go like this."

"Thorin, our vacation will start tomorrow." Bilbo whispers reassuringly. "And we'll have heaps of relaxation time, won't we? I've texted Dis already, so she knows when to expect us."

Thorin sighs, cuddling him a little tighter. "Thank you, treasure."

"Let's try to get some rest." Bilbo replies. He waits until he feels Thorin relax completely in his arms, before allowing himself to drift off into a heavy sleep, too.


	30. If Only For A Little While

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The animals were cute, as well.
> 
> So was Bilbo.

Thorin worked at an animal shelter. He walked there after school, and helped out on weekends. He spent the better part of his holidays working, too, because he liked to buy his little siblings things and he helped out with the rent and the experience would probably help him in the future.

The animals were cute, as well.

So was Bilbo.

He was a kid from Thorin's school. They were in the same grade, and shared a few classes, but Bilbo was a lot more intelligent than him so he was in the higher ranked ones most of the time.

Bilbo often came in when he was sad to pet the stray dogs. He was allergic to the cats, but if the kittens were out he'd sit with them until he was sniffling from their fur rather than from crying.

Thorin kind of liked him. Bilbo was chubby and had curly hair and red cheeks and he was really nice in a quiet, stable kind of way. He always smiled at Thorin, too, even though Thorin was so much taller and wider than him, and was a little intimidating, what with his always-stern expression and hard lines and big hands.

He thought that maybe Bilbo liked him too, but he wasn't sure until Bilbo started hugging him before he left, later at night. He started coming around when he wasn't sad, too. 

Whatever their relationship was, Thorin liked it. He was sure they were together, at this point, even though they hardly spoke a word. Somehow, it worked. Bilbo never faded from his memory, and Thorin never had any doubts about the whole situation. 

He got a little worried when Bilbo wandered in looking sad, though. 

"The smartest people are always the saddest." He told Bilbo one day as the small boy sniffled into the back of his sweater, where he leaned against Thorin with his palms pressed between Thorin's back and his own chest. "You're much too old for your brain."

Bilbo shook, with laughter or with tears Thorin wasn't sure.

Bilbo stayed until Thorin's shift ended after that, most of the time. The sad days weren't any different to then, now, either. He'd follow Thorin around like a quiet ghost, and he was around so much that Thorin's boss was considering paying him at this point in time. 

He'd stay with the puppies, though, when Thorin led him into their playroom while he cleaned their daytime enclosures. He'd come back to check on Bilbo only to find him covered in wriggling bodies, looking a little happier, before he'd continue on with his work. 

One day, he asked Bilbo why he always came to see the puppies when he was sad.

"Because they're so happy to see _me."_ Bilbo said. "It's like, all I have to do is walk in and they're so happy - they don't care who I am or what I look like, they're just so happy, no matter what."

"I understand." And he had, understood, that is - suddenly, it made all the more sense, and Thorin had held him a little tighter before Bilbo left for home. 

He thought that maybe seeing the dogs made Bilbo feel better because they made him love the world like he should, but didn't. Because he saw them, and thought that even though they were in the shelter and they didn't have a loving owner, they were still so happy. 

And happiness wasn't a real thing, it wasn't something that existed. There was no way to define it, and to feel it only fleetingly was torture. Content was a better word, but no less difficult to achieve. 

But being here made Bilbo think that it did, even if only for a little while.


	31. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They dream of a life together.

"No, Thorin, you have to bring the needle up _between_ the threads-"

"But I can't even see where I'm poking the needle-"

"Just be patient- Thorin!" Bilbo bursts into a fit of laughter as Thorin failed, yet again, to embroider a simple chain stitch. 

"My hands were not made for this." Thorin mutters sourly as he passes the fabric and needle back to Bilbo. "I can't understand how you sew such intricate designs..."

Bilbo chuckles. "It just takes patience."

Thorin sighs, and slips his arms around Bilbo's waist instead. He nuzzles his nose against Bilbo's cheek, smiling to himself. "I think I'll leave all the sewing up to you, my dear."

"That's okay." Bilbo says with a grin. "You can do all the handiwork."

Thorin laughs. "I can show you how to fix the-"

"Nope."

"What about the-"

"No, no, no, I'm alright." Bilbo grins wider. "You can do all the fixing, I'll do the mending."

Thorin chuckles again, squeezing his waist a little. "How many people have replied to the invitations?"

"Most." Bilbo says with a nod. "Just waiting on Galion, Gloin and his family, and Gandalf. Though I'm sure Gandalf will just show up, regardless, so I've sort of already ticked him off."

Thorin hums in reply. "Is Galion still at the winery in Italy?"

Bilbo nods. "He should be back next Wednesday. I imagine he'll be ringing me at some point then."

Thorin laughs. "He'll be so upset he wasn't the first to reply." Thorin says.

Bilbo smiles faintly as he finishes the stitching he was working on. "Probably. How does this look?"

"Fantastic, as usual."

Bilbo gave him a pout. "Thorin, you have to be really critical! This is for our _wedding,_ it has to be perfect." He says, glancing down at the embroidery in his hands. "I want it to be perfect."

"Bilbo, love, everything you do is perfect." Thorin says reassuringly. "The stitches are all even and neat, and the colours are very complimentary. You're going to make Lobelia jealous - again."

Bilbo chuckles. "Alright." He adds the finished piece to the steady pile growing in a small box he kept on the coffee table. "Not long now, you know. Only a few months."

"I'm excited." Thorin says. "But nervous."

"Same." Bilbo admits quietly. He runs his fingers over the new piece of blank fabric in his hands. "The wedding, the move into the new house... it's all very daunting."

"But exciting." Thorin reminds him with another gentle squeeze. 

"But exciting." Bilbo agrees. 

"We'll have the rest of our lives to live, after this is all over." Thorin says. "We'll be picking our bed sheets and chinaware and deciding what to plant in the garden..."

"Sounds like a dream." Bilbo smiles faintly.

Thorin presses a lingering kiss to his forehead. "It's our dream."

"That's so cheesy."

"I don't care."

"Neither do I."

"Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last day of May-
> 
> It's been 151 days, so far, and I've written over 190,000 words. Thanks for sticking with me for so long~


End file.
